
Book. t r;-/wH$ 



Copyrights? 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 









: 




WILLIAM E. HATCHER 



• WILLIAM E. HATCHER 

D. D., LL D., L. H. D. 



A BIOGRAPHY 



BY HIS SON 

ELDRIDGE B. HATCHER / 




W. C. Hill Printing Co., Richmond, Va , 



C^j 






COPTBIGHT, 1915, BY 
ELDEIDGE B. HATCHES 



QCT -2 1915 



J 



J 



GI.A410836 



(f— 



TO MY WIFE 

ANNA DENSON HATCHER 

WHO BY HER HOPEFUL INTEREST AND CO-OPERATION 

IN MY WORK OF WRITING THIS BIOGRAPHY 

GREATLY CHEERED ME IN MY LABORS 



FOREWORD 



This book aims to give a picture of a soul. It will disappoint 
those who are seeking a chronicle of all the travels, acts and 
words of William E. Hatcher; but to those who desire to view 
the man behind the deeds it opens its pages. It is the portrait 
of a person rather than the record of a career. The richest 
treasures in human lives are hidden beneath the surface, and 
few things are more interesting than the traits and character- 
istics, the struggles and triumphs of a soul. The author has 
endeavored to select those incidents from the life of William 
E. Hatcher which flash light upon his unique personality and 
unveil him to the reader. 

Events apparently trivial often make startling revelations. 
Plutarch, in his Life of Alexander the Great, says: 

"It must be borne in mind that my design is not to write 
histories but lives. And the most glorious exploits do not 
always furnish us with the clearest discoveries of virtues or 
vices in men; sometimes a matter of less moment, an ex- 
pression or a jest, informs us better of their characters and 
inclinations, than the most famous sieges, the greatest arma- 
ments, or the bloodiest battles whatsoever." 



To the many friends who have sent letters and anecdotes 
for use in this volume the author begs leave here to return his 
hearty thanks. From Dr. Hatcher's own books, "Life of J. B. 
Jeter," "The Pastor and the Sunday School," "John Jasper," 
and "Along the Trail of the Friendly Years," he has made 
many quotations. From The Religious Herald and the Dis- 
patch of Richmond, Va., and the Baptist World of Louisville, 
Ky., he has made copious extracts. He has also quoted from 
the Standard of Chicago, the Baptist Courier of South Caro- 
lina and possibly other papers and of them he wishes here 
to make grateful mention. 



CONTENTS 



FAGB 

CHAPTER I. 

1834-1848. 

Ancestry and Childhood . 1-11 

CHAPTER II. 
1848-1854. 
School Days and Conversion. — Teaching School. — Decision 
to Preach 12-18 

CHAPTER III. 

1854-1858. 

Four Years at Richmond College 19-29 

CHAPTER IV. 

1858-1861. 
First Year of Manchester Pastorate 30-39 

CHAPTER V. 

1861-1866. 
The Civil War. — Marriage. — Revival Experiences . . . 40-51 

CHAPTER VI. 

1866-1867. 
The Struggle Letters 52-69 

CHAPTER VII. 

1867-1868. 
Baltimore Pastorate. — Lecture on the Dance 70-76 

CHAPTER VIII. 

1868-1872. 

Petersburg. — Persistent Drdll in Sermon Making and in 
Literary Composition. — Interest in Boys 77-88 

CHAPTER IX. 

1872-1875. 
The Memorial Movement. — The Ambulance Corps. — Uncle 

Santa's Visit. — The Boys' Meeting 89-101 

vii 



viii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER X. 

1875-1876. 
Richmond. — Richmond College Address. — Boys' Meeting. — 
Dialogues 102-112 

CHAPTER XI. 

1876-1877. 
Amusing Pulpit Experiences .—Humor and Wit 113-124 

CHAPTER XII. 

1877-1878. 
Interest in Young Preachers. — Pastoral Visiting. — Careful- 
ness in Preparing Public Addresses. — Daily Schedule . 125-137 

CHAPTER XIII. 

1879-1880. 
Baltimore Visit. — Fondness for Games. — Hospitality. — 
Address on Dr. Jeter 138-151 

CHAPTER XIV. 

1880-1881. 

Repartee. — Call to Louisville 152-163 

CHAPTER XV. 

1881. 
His Sundays. — Preaching. — Public Prayers 164-173 

CHAPTER XVI. 

1882. 
Editor Religious Herald. — In the Social Circle. — The 
Caravan. — The Baptists 174-184 

CHAPTER XVII. 

1882-1883. 
Pastoral Visits and Pastoral Experences. — Trip to Texas 
and Mexico. — Death of the Twins. — The Caravan . . .185-194 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
1883. 
Cottage for Country Pastor. — A City Pastorate. — Conven- 
tion at Baltimore. — On the Wing. — "Along the Baptist 
Lines" '. . .195-204 



CONTENTS ix 

CHAPTER XIX. 

1884r-1885. 
Friendship. — D. L. Moody. — Visits to the Country. — Charles 
H. Pratt. — Aiding Students 205-219 

CHAPTER XX. 

1885-1886. 

Editorial Correspondence. — Culpeper Meetings. — Weekly 
Letters. — Young Men in His Home. — Lecture Trips. — The 
Friend of Country Churches 220-233 

CHAPTER XXI. 

1886-1887. 

Church Troubles. — Collection in His Church. — The Cele- 
brated Cl Murder Case 234-252 

CHAPTER XXII. 

1887. 

An Eventful Prayer Meeting. — Several Weeks' Revival 
Campaign. — Correcting His Children's Diction. — Sunday 
Schedule. — "Life of J. B. Jeter" 253-266 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

1887-1888. 

Love for Bedford. — "Life of J. B. Jeter" Criticized. — Driving 
Over the Boy. — Genuineness. — Originality 267-279 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

1888. 

Trd? to Europe. — President of the General Association. — 
Baptist Congress 280-292 

CHAPTER XXV. 

1889. 

Church Dedications. — Taking Collections. — Convention at 
Memphis. — Influence in Southern Baptist Convention. — 
The Chesterfield Meeting 293-306 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

1889-1891. 
Trips to Chesterfield. — Peaceful Solution of Church 
Troubles. — Editorial Criticisms. — New Budlding. — 
Interest in Plain People. — Putting Honor Upon Others. — 
Kindness to Young Preachers 307-325 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

1891-1892. 
Entering New Building. — Humility. — Broken Friendship. — 
Wake Forest Revival. — Chesterfield. — His New Boy . . 326-345 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

1893-1894. 
Playing Quoits. — "Uncle David". — The Young People. — 
Sermon Before Southern Baptist Convention. — Dedication 
of the New Grace Street Church Building. — Moody Meet- 
ings . 346-364 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

1894-1896. 
Y. M. C. A. Collection. — Eagerness to Win. — Christian Union. 
— Richmond College. — Topical Notes. — Purchase of Home 
at Fork Union. — Chicago Address 365-378 

CHAPTER XXX. 

1896-1897. 
A Shocking Disaster. — Arduous Building Campaign. — Revival 
Meeting in Granville, Ohio 379-398 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

1897. 
Address on the "Experimental Evidences of Christianity". — 
Thoughtfulness of Others. — Varied Journeys and Labors. 
— Revival Meetings at Toledo, Ohio. — Exaltation of the 
Supernatural 399-413 

CHAPTER XXXII. 
1898. 
Dr. C. C. Meador— The Whitsitt Controversy.— The Bap- 
tists 414-433 



CONTENTS xi 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 
1898-1900. 
Passion for Improvement. — Preachers' House Party. — Fork 
Union Academy Started. — Sickness. — The Novel. — Varied 
Labors 434-151 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

1900-1902. 

His Chinese Boy. — Coleman M . — Dedication of his New 

Building. — Acceptance of the Richmond College Call. — 
Resignation. — Educational Work. — Letters to Children. — 
Rockefeller Campaign 452-467 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

1902-1903. 
His Grandchildren. — Sunday School Lectures. — Versatility. 
— The Campaign for Bristol, — Christmas Reunion. — Pati- 
ence With Boys. — Saint Joseph, Mo. — Editorial Paragraphs 468-486 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

1903-1905. 
Welcoming Grandfather. — Country People. — The Louisville 
Seminary. — Tributes to Drs. McDonald and Meador. — 
Collection for the Seminary. — Convention at Kansas City 487-500 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

1905-1907. 
Introducing New Pastors. — Academy Details. — Relation to 
the Academy. — Disappointments. — Old Age. — Strenuous 
Activity. — Weighted With Many Burdens. — Battling With 
Sickness 501-517 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

1907. 
Commences Writing His New Book. — Biography. — Colgate 
Lectures. — Delineating Character. — Working at High 
Pressure. — Address at Indianapolis on "The Making of 
the American Gentleman" . . . , 518-536 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

1908. 
Meetings at Eutaw Place, Baltimore; Franklin College, 
Ind.; Tremont Temple, Boston, and Colgate University, 
N. Y. — Convention at Hot Springs. — Varied Activities. — 
Railroad Accident. — "John Jasper" 537-560 



xii CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XL. 
1908-1909. 
With the Academy Boys. — The Academy and the Community — 
Character Training. — "Grace Street" Anniversary. — 
Reminiscences. — Manifold Trips and Labors. — Ah Fong's 
Graduation. — Monuments. — A Personal Sermon. — Personal 
Characteristics 561-585 

CHAPTER XLI. 
1910. 
Serious Sickness at Fort Wayne, Ind. — Article on "The 
Grippe". — Clothes. — Letter to Dr. C. H. Ryland. — Select- 
ing the Title. — "Along the Trah, of the Friendly Years" . — 
Messages About His New Book 586-611 

CHAPTER XLII. 

1910-1911. 
Games With the Grandchildren. — Continued Tributes to his 
Book. — Interest in People. — Caught in a Hotel Fire. — 
Bluefield 612-640 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

1911. 
Continuous Activities. — Meetings at Pocomoke. — Address at 
Meredith College. — Baptist World Alliance. — Correspond- 
ence. — His Enemies. — Baltimore State Mission Banquet. — 
Address Before Coli^ege Trustees. — Optimism. — Old Age . 641-666 

CHAPTER XLIV. 
1912. 
Labors in Florida. — Campaign for the Orangeburg School. — 
Farewell Meeting With Ah Fong— Labors in South Caro- 
lina.— Working While it is Day. — His Portrait Unveiled . 667-684 

CHAPTER XLV. 
1912. 
Busy Here and There. — Address at Judge Witt's Funeral. — 
The Grandchildren. — A Crowded Week. — Happy Days at 
Careby.— The End 685-696 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



PAGE 



William E. Hatcher. Frontispiece 

Careby Church, England, where are the tombs of the Hatcher 

family of the 16th Century 4 

The Birthplace and Boyhood Home of William E. Hatcher . . 6 

William E. Hatcher, at age of 30 62 

Mrs. William E. Hatcher 78 

William E. Hatcher, at age of about 38 88 

The Grace Street Baptist Church, Richmond, Va 102 

The Richmond Home, 608 W. Grace Street 146 

William E. Hatcher 308 

The New Grace Street Baptist Church 326 

The Grace Street Baptist Church, after the fire 382 

William E. Hatcher 434 

Grace Street Baptist Church Rebuilt 438 

Grandfather and Virginia 440 

Grandfather and Wllll\m 456 

Careby Hall, the Fork Union Home 462 

William E. Hatcher 484 

William E. Hatcher 524 

At the Albemarle Association 580 

Grandfather and Anna 592 

Fork Union Military Academy 618 



CHAPTER I 

ANCESTRY AND CHILDHOOD 

1834-1848 

" William, are you very fond of sweet potatoes?' ' asked the 
father. 

"Yes." 

"Come, let's go out to the patch and see how they are 
getting along." This invitation to the potato patch was given 
by an old farmer, Mr. Henry Hatcher, to his thirteen year old 
boy, William E., about sixty-seven years ago at their moun- 
tain home in Bedford County, Va. William had seemed 
reluctant to doing any work on the farm and his father was 
seeking to cure him of his apparent laziness. 

They reached the patch and the father began to pull up the 
weeds from around the vines, and in a few moments he called 
out in a bright tone: "William, come and help me get this 
grass out of the way." 

William joined in the grass pulling but in no happy mood 
and soon he said to his father in a determined manner: 

"I have come to the conclusion that God does not intend 
for me to work in the dirt." 

The words cut the father as with a knife. Without losing 
his temper and with a gentle touch of satire he sorrowfully 
replied: "I begin to think, my son, that that is true and I 
have been studjdng why God made you at all and I have come 
to the conclusion that he created you to starve as a warning 
for all idle boys that may come on later." 

"No; I hope not," said William. "I hope that I will always 
have enough to eat, but I do not think that I will have to dig 
it out of the ground." 



2 ANCESTRY 

A shadow passed across the old man's face and he said no 
more. This positive — almost rebellious — speech of the boy 
was the outcropping of a trait that dwelt also in the father, for 
we are told that the old gentleman "had a will and a way of his 
own" and that while his spirit was not stormy, nor harsh, yet 
when he said a thing "all interrogation points were taken 
down and the thing was settled." 

In fact, this spirit of protest which we find in William at 
the potato patch, seems to have traveled down to him from 
his ancestors through several generations; for in 1652 we find 
it breaking out in another William Hatcher in the Virginia 
House of Burgesses. This William Hatcher arose one day and 
withstood the Speaker of the House to his face by exclaiming: 
"The mouth of this house is an atheist, a blasphemer and a 
devil!" For this inflammatory indulgence, Mr. Hatcher was 
forced to apologize to the Speaker and, after paying a heavy 
fine, was dismissed. But he was evidently an important 
factor in the public councils of the Colony, for he was after- 
wards re-elected and served as a member at two later sessions. 

This defiant old progenitor was the first of the Hatchers to 
set foot on American soil and was styled "William the Emi- 
grant." He was once presented by the grand jury for not 
attending the services of the established church, — such at- 
tendance at that time being required by the mother country. 
If, as Sacred Writ informs us, man is born to trouble as the 
sparks fly upward, no less did this Mr. William Hatcher seem 
born for conflict with the existing order. "Every great man 
is a non-conformist" says Emerson and while we are not pre- 
pared to claim for Mr. Hatcher a place among the great, we 
can safely pronounce him a non-conformist. 

When next we hear of him he is involved in the famous 
"Bacon's Rebellion," which was aimed at the English govern- 
ment, and which was called by the historian Bancroft, "the 
early harbinger of American Nationality." This uprising 
occurred on the neck of land on which Mr. William Hatcher 
lived. In that movement he was an active factor, and for 



ANCESTRY 3 

the pleasure of indulging his revolutionary tendences he was 
commanded to pay ten thousand pounds of tobacco. But 
mercy interposed — because of Mr. Hatcher's age— and he was 
let down to a lower figure and hogs were substituted for to- 
bacco, — the fine being 8,000 pounds of pork, which he was to 
furnish to "His Majesty's soldiers." When this writer recalls 
the aversion to swine meat which clung to the William E. 
Hatcher who is the subject of this memoir, he begins to wonder 
if William did not receive from his rugged old forefather some- 
thing else besides his defiant, independent spirit. 

It is said that "every individual is an omnibus in which all 
his ancestors ride." We can not call the roll of all the forbears 
of the youthful William and yet it is fitting that we at least 
take note of his distinguished lineage. Many people shy off 
from genealogies and we do not forget the saying of the old 
philosopher, Phaedrus, many centuries ago, that "it is indeed 
a glorious thing to be well descended, but the glory belongs 
to our ancestors." It is no wish of this writer to deck the 
youthful William in glory borrowed from his progenitors; and 
yet it is well that we turn our gaze towards those whose blood, 
several centuries afterwards, traveled in his veins. 

The home of the Hatchers in England was at Careby in 
Lincolnshire, and inscriptions on the quaint tombs in the 
Careby Churchyard and the records in the community testify 
to the high rank held by the Hatchers as early as the 16th 
century. On one of the tombs we find this inscription, dated 
1564: 

"Here is interred the remains of Sir Hatcher of the 

ancient family of Hatchers, for many generations the lords of 
this manor." 

Some of the Hatchers fought in Cromwell's army, — among 
them Sir Thomas Hatcher, a member of Parliament, who 
because of his championship of Cromwell's cause was included 
in the list of "traitors" mentioned in Newcastles' Proclama- 
tion of the 17th of January, 1643. This same Sir Thomas 
Hatcher was, with Sir Harry Vane, and other Commissioners 



4 CHILDHOOD 

sent to Scotland "to treat of a nearer union and confederacy 
with the Scottish nation and to help frame the famous Solemn 
League and Covenant, which was adopted by Parliament 
Sept. 17th, 1640." But we are now getting dangerously near 
to rulers, and if we become entangled in such high places we 
might be tempted to forget the little mountain lad in Bedford, 
who must henceforth — for us — hold the center of the stage. 
The journey back from Careby England, to Bedford County, 
Virginia, however, is a long one and in returning to the boy 
William let us pause at William's grandfather, Jeremiah 
Hatcher, for he possessed two shining traits which seem to 
have found their way into William's soul. One was a passion 
for preaching and the other was a passion for helpfulness. 
This Jeremiah Hatcher was a man of considerable means and, 
after being pastor in Chesterfield County, he settled in Bedford 
and preached the gospel throughout a large section of the 
country without financial reward. He erected a church build- 
ing at his own expense for the people which was known far 
and wide as "Hatcher's Meeting House" and his religious 
work, done simply for the love of the work and of the people, 
wrought a signal transformation in that portion of the country. 

This man had three grandsons who became preachers; 
William E. Hatcher, Harvey Hatcher, and Jeremiah B. Jeter, 
all of whom were born in the same "shed room" at the old 
Hatcher Homestead. 

When William was four years old "the brightest star in his 
sky went out. His mother died. She was a Presbyterian, was 
"fair and cultured" and William was said to resemble her. 
Into her room that day they carried him to look upon her 
silent form and next he remembered going with the procession 
out under the cherry tree where they put her body in the 
ground. 

The burial is over, the mourning friends have scattered to 
their homes, — maybe one or two put their hands tenderly on 
the head of little William, or possibly kissed him as he looked 
with his big eyes on the people and on the new made red dirt 



CHILDHOOD 5 

under which they had put his mother and understood not what 
it meant. When the little fellow turned back to the house he 
dreamed not of the lonely days ahead of him. His mother had 
spent her last hours in praying that he might become a preacher, 
but she was gone and who now would care what became of this 
four year old motherless boy. 

There sits the father — a rugged old farmer — fifty-four years 
old, but today — the day of the funeral — he looks older than 
ever. Yonder are the children, three half brothers, two half 
sisters, and his own brother Harvey, and all of them older than 
William. His father was not a professing christian, but was 
a regular attendant upon the church; he loved his Bible and 
was highly respected in his community. He had one marked 
trait and that was his devotion to his baby boy. Every night 
William slept in his father's bed and in the day he was carried 
in his fathers arms. 

The grass came upon the new grave; the cherry tree grew 
older and the months and even the years moved by, but while 
they brought many birthdays to William they brought him 
few pleasures. 

One day old "Father Harris", pastor of Mount Hermon 
Church, rode up to the home and spent the night. On the 
next morning little William was sitting by the window in the 
parlor. Breakfast was announced and as the venerable minister 
was walking from the bed room through the parlor to the 
dining room his eye fell upon the boy at the window and he 
noticed that he was absorbed in a book. He turned out of 
his way, walked up to the youthful reader laid his hand gently 
upon his head and in a very mellow, gracious tone said: "My 
boy I hope God will call you to preach the gospel. " Already 
William had been informed that his grandfathers on his mother's 
and on his father's side were both Baptist preachers and that 
his mother had spent her last breath in praying that God would 
make "William and Harvey" preachers. 

An accident happened to William that left its life mark upon 
his soul as well as upon his body. Out on the farm one day 



6 CHILDHOOD 

they were cutting strips of wood — or splits as they called 
them — on which to hang the meats and he was standing by 
looking on. 

"Pa" said he "I want to see if I can't make a split." 

The indulgent old father handed over the knife and wood 
and the boy went vigorously to work, when the knife slipped 
and buried itself in his tender hand. A few days after that 
his sister Margaret set out on a winter's day on a visit to her 
married sister, fifteen miles distant, and William was mounted 
upon a second horse to accompany her and bring her horse 
back. All went well on the outward journey. On the return 
however, he had to lead the other horse; the cut place on his 
hand pulled open and he caught cold in the hand and for 
nearly fifteen miles the pain increased. It opened a dark 
chapter in the lad's life. For two months he said he almost 
died with pain. The boy's sufferings and moans threw the 
household, especially the old father, into a panic. What 
could be done? Medical attention in that neighborhood was 
of the rudest kind. One day a young fellow visiting at the 
home took a glance at the injured hand and called out boast- 
fully: "If you send for my father he'll cure that in a few days." 

Alas, the suggestion was adopted and the father, who was 
something of a quack, was sent for. He tinkered with the 
hand and did it great damage. 

For two months he kept his throbbing hand on a pillow and 
for two years he carried it in a sling. One day a gentleman 
hearing of his sufferings came over and, as the father told him 
about William's experiences, he said: "That boy has suffered 
four deaths." It was his left hand. A bone had sought to 
work its way towards the cut place but it worked in the wrong 
direction. The little hand was drawn together and while it 
did not become misshapen in any disfiguring way, yet it was 
hindered in its growth and carried forever afterwards the signs 
of its racking experience. 

Ah, those were torturing days and weeks for him. How 
often he must have held his hand and looked out into the 



CHILDHOOD 7 

future wondering if relief would ever, ever come. While 
other boys were romping over the hills and shouting in happy 
glee he was groaning and crying in pain. After two years — 
and how long they must have seemed — his hand healed, after a 
fashion, and came out of the sling. No one understood 
it then, but those months of suffering through which William 
passed kindled sympathies within him that were destined to 
play a large part in his future career. 

His home nestled amid the mountains with the Peaks of 
Otter looming in the distance; "The Peaks" were spoken of as 
one mountain. "It looked so high and blue" he said "that 
I thought I could climb to Heaven on it." There were a few 
slaves on the plantation to serve the family and the home 
was one of comfort and respectability but life was simple and 
rude. Mail was received only once a week and he said that 
he did not know that up to his seventeenth year he had for 
himself as much as five dollars. 

It must also be mentioned that he was frail, sickly and sensi- 
tive. The spirit of independence that had broken out in the 
conversation with his father about the weeds still lay within 
him. For example he hated for a boy to get an advantage 
over him. He was once given one of his big brother Henry's 
suits to wear. He presented a ludicrous spectacle in the ill- 
fitting and well-worn garments. His soul stormed in revolt 
as Henry seemed to enjoy the sight and he informed him that 
the time would come when he, Henry, would.be glad to wear 
his cast off clothes, — a prophecy which was fulfilled in later 
years much to the hilarious merriment of all the household, 
except Henry. 

He wanted no one to triumph over him and even as a boy he 
had signal success in maintaining his supremacy. On one 
occasion he was out in the woods with his big brother Harvey, 
and — as was generally the case on such hunting expeditions, — 
Harvey wielded the gun while William carried the game. 
Harvey was an expert with the gun and William had no taste 
nor skill in that direction and the big brother naturally con- 



8 CHILDHOOD 

sidered it a waste of time and ammunition for William to.be 
using the weapon. 

"Harvey let me take a shot" called out William that day as 
they stood before a tall tree in the top of which a squirrel had 
neatly curled himself up amid the leaves and at which Harvey 
had fired several shots without effect. 

"Oh, you could'nt hit him" said Harvey with awful disdain 
as he loaded for another shot which also proved ineffectual. 

"Let me try" pleaded William a second time. The brother 
with increased contempt hooted at the idea of his hitting such 
a distant mark but finally, after several failures to bring down 
the game, he reluctantly remarked, "If I miss him this time 
I will let you shoot once just to keep you quiet." 

Away went the shot but the squirrel remained untouched. 
Hastily the gun was loaded and handed to William with in- 
structions to hurry and be over with it. William lifted the 
gun, looked far away up into the tall tree at the place where 
the squirrel was said to be, pointed the weapon at the spot and 
pulled the trigger. Bang went the gun; there was a rustle of 
the leaves at the top and down came the squirrel tumbling 
at their feet. 

Every Saturday William went to Chilton's mill with the 
corn and one day the owner of the mill said to him: "William, 
come and have dinner with me." He went and ever after that 
he was glad to go because of the many fine books which were 
there to read. He found himself attracted to the young man 
in charge of the mill — C. C. Meador, — and these two souls 
were drawn together in a friendship that was broken only by 
death. Thereafter Saturday was his red letter day, for it 
meant "books and Meador." 

As a boy in the mountains with no mother to love him, hav- 
ing to battle against sickness and loneliness, blamed by some 
for his supposed indolence, with his own brother Harvey much 
bigger than himself and temperamentally very different from 
him, he seemed to be put on the defensive and while it did not 
make him sulky, or sore, or disagreeable, yet it made him sensi- 



CHILDHOOD 9 

tive. He said "I fairly died for appreciation. I did not know 
what was the matter, but I suffered unutterably for the want 
of a mother, for an intelligent sympathy, for some one who 
could mark my little sorrows, dress my little wounds, wipe off 
my tears when I cried and kiss me when I went to bed." 

"I really believe" said he "that I never forgot one apprecia- 
tive or commendatory word spoken to me during my boyhood. 
I craved the good will of others. There was an old gentleman 
to whose house I sometimes had to go, — Mr. Joseph Rees, 
by name ... He could tell me things that I did not 
know and that drew me to him. He had a strain of cordiality of 
sympathy which I always felt when in contact with him. He 
believed in me, complimented me on little things and startled 
me by little predictions as to my future." How agreeable it 
would be if this old neighbor had only written down for us what 
it was that he saw in the boy William on which he had based his 
predictions. 

We have already discovered that William was a boy with 
decision of character, eagerness for knowledge, capacity for 
friendship, an unwillingness to being triumphed over, a sensi- 
tiveness and a patience under prolonged and terrible suffering. 
Even the incident at the potato patch hints at something more 
about William than his resolute spirit. It suggests that at 
that early date he felt that God had something for him to do 
in the world. 

"I was a great knitter" he said "and swept the floor and set 
the table, etc. After my sisters all married I kept house for 
my three brothers and my father. There was then no lady in 
the house. I carried the keys. I began this at twelve years of 
age". A cheerless picture in this — a mountain home without 
wife, mother or sister. When his sister married and left the home 
he said "I cried my eyes out about it." 

One day the family was thrown into a happy flutter by the 
announcement that "Cousin Jerry" was coming. Dr. Jeremiah 
B. Jeter, tall and patriarchal, was then pastor of the First 
Baptist Church of Richmond, Va., and the leading Baptist 



10 CHILDHOOD 

minister of the state, if not of the South. The coming of this 
eminent kinsman always marked an epoch with the family. 
The old father would take a new lease on life in these visits 
from "Cousin Jerry" and his dormant powers seemed to awake 
in the presence of his gifted relative. 

One afternoon Dr. Jeter and the father started across the 
yard to walk over to "Cousin Tom's" on a visit and William 
followed them. After the visit and on their return homewards 
as they were getting over a rail fence that lay across their 
path they paused and remained seated on the top of the fence. 
William picked up a soft rock, sat down in one of the corners 
of the fence and with his knife and a piece of clay began to 
carve out a book. In a few minutes Dr. Jeter said: 

"How are your children getting along?" 

"Very well, indeed; all of them are doing well, — that is," 
and here his voice hesitated and dropped a little "all of them 
except one." 

"Which child can this one be?" wondered William. 

The father took up each of his children by name beginning 
with the oldest and coming down the line. William listened 
eagerly and his boyish heart began to flame with fury that one 
of the children should be causing his father trouble. He listened 
for the name of the guilty one, determined to wreck his venge- 
ance upon him. Down the list came the father giving high 
praise to each one until only Harvey and William were left. 

"And so Harvey, my own brother, is the villain" said William 
to himself, but to his consternation, Harvey like the other 
children was commended. 

"As to William, my youngest, — " he said in a tender, sad- 
dened tone, "he gives me more concern and unhappiness than 
all my other children together and I tremble for his future." 

A small tornado of shame and confusion was raging in the 
fence corner. "Is it possible?" exclaimed the Doctor in pained 
surprise. "Ah, I am sorry indeed to hear it. Too bad; too 
bad," and then in a solemn way he asked "Is he vicious?" 

That word "vicious" made the boy in the fence corner jump 



CHILDHOOD 11 

as if he had been shot. It was a brand new word to him and as 
pronounced by the Doctor it seemed loaded with all the evils 
of the lower regions. Tremblingly he waited for his father's 
reply and the lights flamed out once more for him as his father 
answered: "Why No; he is not vicious; he is the most affection- 
ate of all my children and would never get out of sight of me 
if he could help it." 

"What is the matter with him?" the Doctor inquired. 

"He is of no account upon the earth for work" "said the 
father." "He hates any kind of work in the dirt and says that 
he does not believe that God has made him to work in the dirt." 

"What does he do? How does he spend his time?" 

"Why he does nothing but read; it is books when he gets up, 
books all day and books at night; he knows every book on the 
plantation by heart." The Doctor was greatly relieved, and the 
sight of the old father, so grief stricken about the studious habits 
of the boy William, caused him to break into a hearty laugh. 

"Is that all?" he exclaimed. "It may be that the Lord has 
made him that way sure enough; there are many things for 
people to do besides work on the farm and, while I am sorry 
that he has such an aversion to it, I am glad to know that he is 
not rebellious nor wicked nor hard to manage. Give him an 
education and that will be worth more to him than $20,000." 

A new day dawned for William. Not long after the conversa- 
tion at the fence he was sent to a classical school in the neighbor- 
hood which to his imagination suggested a paradise. He said 
that one reason why he liked to talk to the owner of the mill 
was because he knew so many things. It was startling to note 
the hunger and respect that William had for knowledge. He 
thought that the world was filled with wonderful things to be 
known and he longed to know them. 

"The wish to know — that endless thirst 
Still urged me onward with desire 
Insatiate to explore, to inquire." 

He had a poor opinion of the boy that rattled away with 
foolish talk, but he liked a boy who would "talk sense." 



CHAPTER II 

SCHOOL DAYS AND CONVERSION. TEACHING SCHOOL, 
DECISION TO PREACH 

1848-1854 

It was a mountain-top day for him when he walked off that 
first morning to school. The teacher's name was Mr. E. W. 
Horseley, a graduate of the Virginia Military Institute. Every 
afternoon while returning home from school William would 
study his lessons for the next day, often stopping on the way 
for that purpose, and frequently knowing half his lessons upon 
his arrival at home. Every morning he would be waked up 
by his father two hours before day and there before the blazing 
light of a big fire he would tug and toil over his lessons. Missing 
a lesson filled him with shame; but the approval of his father, 
he said, was more to him than medals of gold. He knew that 
he had wounded the old man by his reluctance to working on 
the farm and it was his delight now to bring him pleasure by 
doing well in his classes. His teacher filled him with a love for 
Latin and before he left school he did not lack much of being 
able to repeat the Latin Grammar bodily from beginning to end. 

"William" said an old gentleman in the neighborhood to 
him one day "I wish that my boys loved to go to school as 
much as you do." 

William said that it had not occurred to him that his affec- 
tion for his school had anything noteworthy in it but the 
gentleman's remark brought him to realize that he did indeed 
love his school. But he had a craving for something else 
besides knowledge; he had a craving for religion. When a very 
small boy at the old Mount Hermon church something took 

12 



RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS 13 

place that seemed to touch the deepest chords in his soul. A 
revival was in progress and he was sitting back in the crowd 
watching the proceedings with curious gaze when suddenly 
he saw his sister come down the aisle to his cousin Henry, — 
"a biggish, rough boy" — and in a most tender manner invite 
him to go with her to the front seat. Henry, with his streaming 
tears, went and little William saw it all and knew that religion 
was at the bottom of it and he thought that religion was the 
biggest thing in the world, and that he wanted it too, but he 
understood almost nothing about it. The news went forth 
that Henry was converted, and William felt that he too would 
like to be converted but it seemed a thing impossible. He 
was only ten years old and so he locked up these timid desires 
in his heart and kept on his narrow little pathway. 

Several years had now passed since the Mount Hermon 
meetings and he had become a school boy, but the yearning for 
"religion" had never entirely left him. 

One day he heard news that gave him a fluttering of heart. 
He was told that meetings were soon to commence at Mount 
Hermon. He felt that he would give all that he had if he could 
only become converted, but there seemed no hope for a timid, 
ignorant lad like him. He kept on at school, but every day 
both going and coming, he would turn aside from the road, and 
between the crooked roots of a big oak tree he would bow 
himself down and tell God about his troubles. 

On Friday afternoon he ran home as if the house was afire 
and that night after supper he went to Mount Hermon, — went 
alone — two miles of the journey being through an unbroken 
forest. The preachers, the crowd of people, the thrilling songs 
and the sinners pressing to the front bench held his attention; 
but he sat helpless, — when to his amazement a fine old gentle- 
man, Dr. Falls, came down the aisle to him and in a singularly 
kind manner invited him to go with him to the front. William 
went and was surprised at his coolness when he reached the 
front bench. No light came into his soul and much discouraged 
he wended his long and lonely way back to his home. He went 



14 RELIGIOUS CONVICTIONS 

the next day, but nothing occured to bring him comfort and he 
faced the prospect of another solitary tramp homewards that 
evening, but his venerable friend Dr. Falls who lived near the 
church said to him: "William, come home with me to supper." 
That invitation meant much for William. It meant his return 
.to the church that night. He went. The party at Dr. Falls' 
home that evening, however, was too gay for the boy to linger 
there and he started to church soon after supper, the moon 
lighting his path across the field. On his way he heard foot- 
steps behind him and was overtaken by a kinsman, Mr. Munroe 
Hatcher, who opened up the subject of religion to him. The 
boy listened and answered his questions in trembling fashion. 
The man, who himself had been recently converted after a 
notoriously wicked life, sought to explain to William what it 
meant to believe in Christ " I have heard people talk about 
having faith, but I don't believe I can understand it" William 
said almost in a tone of despair. Suddenly the man stopped in 
the road and, looking towards the sky, he pointed his finger 
upwards and said: "Do you see that limb up yonder?" The 
troubled boy lifted his gaze and there, far above him, he 
saw the limb of a giant oak stretching itself across the road. 
How high it seemed to William's eyes! 

"Suppose you were on that limb; you would be afraid to 
jump off, would'nt you?" 

The boy shuddered as he thought of it and said: 

"Yes, indeed." 

"Look again" he said. "Suppose you were on that limb and 
I were to call to you and tell you to jump off that I would 
catch you; would you jump?" 

"No, indeed" said William very decidedly. 

"But, why not? If I were to promise you that I would 
certainly catch you and that you would not be hurt, why 
wouldn't j^ou jump?" 

"Because I would'nt think you would have the strength to 
catch me." 

"Ah, that is it exactly" he replied "You would not believe 



CONVERSION 15 

that I could do it. That is unbelief. You would lack faith in 

me." 

There flashed into William's mind a faint idea of what it 
meant to doubt Christ, and he felt a little guilty for seeming 
to doubt Christ. 

"But look at that limb again" he said with a new vigor in 
his tone. "Suppose now that you were on that limb — look 
up at it." 

Once more the boy turned his heavy anxious eyes towards 
the limb and it seemed to tower higher than ever. 

"Suppose you were up there and Jesus Christ was to come 
right here and you should know that it was he and he should 
lift both his hands towards you and should call to you 'William, 
let go the limb and fall and I will catch you/ would you do it?" 

How the question stirred his soul. He did not make quick 
reply. He faced fully the question: "Would I let go if Christ 
were to tell me he would catch me." As he thought of Christ 
the Son of God making him such an offer he felt with all his 
heart that he would let go. He knew that he would. He 
even began to wish that he was up on the limb and could show 
Christ that he would, and so he answered in glad tone. 

"Yes, I would." 

"Why would you?" the friend asked. 

"Because if he should say he would catch me I believe that 
he would." 

"In other words, you would have faith in him" the old man 
eagerly replied. 

Slowly the light began to break into the boy's mind. The 
old man went on to tell him that he would let go the limb 
because he had faith in Christ, and "so Christ says you must 
let go your sins and all your earthly hopes for salvation, and 
fall into his arms and he will catch you and save you." We 
need not protract the story except to say that William went 



16 TEACHING SCHOOL 

into the church and resolved that he would not leave the 
building until he settled the question as to whether he would 
trust himself to Christ to save him; and right there that night 
he settled it. He saw his brother Henry sitting in another part 
of the church and he pushed his way over to him, squeezed 
into the bench by him, put his hand on his shoulder and leaning 
as far up towards his ear as he could get, whispered: "Brother 
Henry, I can trust the Savior." It was late that night when 
Henry and William reached home; the house had long been 
wrapped in slumber, but Henry tip-toed into the old father's 
room went to his bed, gently awoke him and said: 

"Father, great news tonight; your baby boy came into the 
kingdom of God." 

A day or so later, the father said to him: "My Son, if you 
are thinking of joining the church I suggest that you read your 
New Testament before taking any public step." 

William had always declared that he expected to be a 
Presbyterian in memory of his mother who was a Presbyterian. 
His kins-people on his father's side were Baptists. He went 
to the New Testament and one day he announced that he 
had decided to be baptized and join the Baptist Church. A few 
days later, as the multitude gathered at the beautiful Otter 
Creek, and as old Father Harris led the candidates down into 
the water, one of that happy number was William. He at- 
tended some cottage prayer meetings and to his over-mastering 
delight his words to an unsaved young man led him to Christ. 
It was his first taste of soul winning and a fire was then kindled 
in his heart that never went out. 

He now faced a crisis. He had completed his course in the 
neighborhood schools, was seventeen years of age, and was 
prepared by his studies to enter College — but alas, his father 
had not the means to send him. He determined to earn the 
money and at the age of seventeen he went to the home of his 
married sister at the foot of the Peaks of Otter to teach school. 

He thus writes: 

"My brother Henry went with me; we traveled on horseback 



DECISION TO PREACH 17 

carrying my little stock of goods in very ordinary saddle bags. 
I am sure I did not carry as much as two dollars with me and 
although I was then seventeen years and four months old I 
do not believe that I had had as much as five dollars in all my 
life put together. I had suffered greviously during the past 
summer with eczema and it troubled me all the winter long. 
During that winter I occupied a little log cabin in the yard and 
did quite an amount of reading, — though as a fact, I had 
nothing to read by in the way of light except fire light, light- 
wood not being found in that neighborhood.' ' 

In addition to his regular school he organized what he called 
a "School of Manners" in which he taught his pupils "how to 
enter a parlor/ ' "how to sit in a chair," "how to use the knife 
and fork in eating" and other such feats of social skill. He 
became keenly interested also in a community Debating 
Society, and here he probably had his first experience in 
grappling with others in debate. 

But this young teacher had a trouble within his own breast 
that his pupils knew not of. A question was knocking at his 
soul for an answer — the question as to whether he ought to 
enter the Gospel ministry. He had as a boy seemed very 
positive that God did not intend for him to be a farmer. His 
mother's dying prayer was that he should be a preacher; old 
Father Harris had startled him one day with the same sug- 
gestion, and in other ways the subject had gained his atten- 
tion. The question had been disturbing him so long and was 
now so persistent in its appeal that one night — misty and 
dismal though it was — he put on his hat and went out into the 
darkness and pushed his way up a near-by hill determined 
that he would remain on the hill until the question was settled. 
There, under a cherry tree, the dying prayer of her whose 
dust was sleeping under another cherry tree was answered and 
her boy there decided to devote himself to the gospel ministry. 

His decision to preach, however, did not fling him precipi- 
tately into the active ministry. Between him and his chosen 
life's work there stood the College, and between him and the 



18 TEACHING IN MONTGOMERY COUNTY 

College were several hundred dollars which he must earn; 
and so when his little school closed he moved around to the 
other side of the mountain where he was engaged to teach 
another school for the next twelve months. At this time he 
wore a glove on his crippled hand. At the end of the session he 
returned to his home with his earnings, — which were not 
sufficient, however, to unlock the College gate. Although his 
soul cried out for the high education, he turned once more to 
teaching in order to increase his financial store. He undertook 
a private school in Montgomery County, writing at the same 
time a letter of inquiry to Dr. Ryland, President of Richmond 
College, regarding the College; but the passing weeks brought 
him no reply. 

In the meantime something happened in his school. He 
was compelled to whip one of his obstreporous pupils and that 
night the big father lunged into William's room and demanded 
an explanation. William told him that the proper discipline 
of the school required the whipping and then informed the 
fuming parent that if he was dissatisfied he could settle 
with him and their relations would cease. The suggestion was 
accepted and thereupon William packed up and departed, 
sleeping that night at a neighbor's. 

Next morning he stopped at the Post Office on his way to 
the depot, and was handed a letter which proved to be from 
Dr. Ryland. The letter said in substance, "Come on to 
Richmond College." 



CHAPTER III 

FOUR YEARS AT RICHMOND COLLEGE 

1854-1858 

Upon his arrival at home he was greeted by the news that his 
brother Harvey had also decided to enter the ministry and 
soon it was agreed that William should divide his funds with 
Harvey and that together they should enter Richmond College. 

A happy day was that for William. For twenty years he 
had been a country youth and had played his little part within 
the circle of the mountains. But now the portal swings open 
and he is to enter the great world outside. His passion for 
knowledge, — so rampant and aggressive — is at last to be 
rewarded and he is to become a student in a great institution 
and a comrade with ambitious, brilliant young men. 

As William and his brother were speeding along on the train 
that was taking them to the College at Richmond William said: 

"Harvey, my feeling of greenness and outlandishness, as I 
think of the College, is overwhelming and I know we will cut a 
sorry figure before those brilliant, highly advanced students." 

"I expect you are right, William." 

"I know we will furnish them amusement and be the target 
for their jokes" continued William "but I do have one wish 
and that is that we will not be the worst of the lot." 

"Vain wish" Harvey replied laughing. 

"I think" continued William "that if we can only find just 
one student who is unquestionably a bigger fool than we are I 
will rest easier." 

"You are becoming scared too soon. I am not troubled. 

19 



20 RICHMOND COLLEGE 

Those fellows do not worry me, and what care I for their 
polish and their big learning. They have had their chance and 
we have'nt. They will have to take us at what we are/' and 
Harvey grew defiant as he spoke. 

But defiance did not suit William's mood at that moment. 
He finally said: 

"Harvey." 

"What is it?" 

"If the fool killer does come around the College after we 
get there, it will go a long way towards reconciling me to my 
dreadful fate if I can only witness the execution of one fool 
greater than I am, before my time comes." 

At sunset these two mountain boys alighted at the depot in 
Richmond, and engaged the driver of a street wagon to carry 
them and their trunks to the College for twenty-five cents 
apiece. Each one sat upon his trunk in the wagon and in such 
state and pomp they drove in upon the College campus. 

"A somewhat oldish student" spying these two country 
youths took them in hand at once, showed them where they 
could get their supper, found a room where they could sleep 
and all the while kept talking to them in quite a knowing and 
fatherly way. William was overwhelmed with gratitude and 
said to others afterwards that he loved the fellow on the spot. 
But that night after William and Harvey had gone to bed 
William said softly: 

"Harvey." 

"What is it?" mumbled the older brother. 

"I solemnly believe that if the fool killer comes along to- 
night that you and I will have two chances to one so far as our 
kind benefactor who took us in hand on our arrival this evening 
is concerned." William's jest about his greenness had in it 
no mock modesty. His own stock of learning seemed to him 
so small that he thought that if he could hold his tongue he 
would at least not make a fool of himself with the students. 
He expected to be thrilled by the fine talk of bright pupils. 
His thirst was for knowledge. There were great books to be 



RICHMOND COLLEGE 21 

studied; great teachers from whom he could learn and gifted 
students with whom he could associate, and that constituted 
the glory of the College for him. 

He and Harvey on Sunday received company and William 
said they were wild with conceit to find how well they were being 
considered by the students. He said that he felt dwarfed by 
the superior genius of some of the young men in College that 
year, and they taught him "that there was a long chasm 
between mediocrity and genius." 

His capacity for friendship manifested itself during this 
first session, his soul becoming knit to that of a student named 
Charles H. Ryland and the union thus formed continued 
unbroken to the end of life. 

There was another student there with whom he formed a 
life long friendship. He was a simple-hearted, unpretentious, 
country youth, but at their first meeting William knew that 
he would like him and at every meeting the liking grew, grew 
solidly and rapidly. And though William was slow in letting 
down the bars, yet they were gradually all taken down and 
it came to pass that a second friendship was formed — this 
time with John R. Bagby, which proved in some respects to 
be the strongest, most lasting and most affectionate of his life. 
He was discriminating in his estimate of his College mates. 
There was one student, who afterwards became a distinguished 
minister, who seemed to excite William's aversion and indigna- 
tion to whom he said: "I do not like your actions, or your 
manners; they are offensive to me." 

Even regarding one of the high officials of the College whom 
he respected he said: "If I had superintended the making of the 
old gentleman I would have omitted several things." William's 
decision of character expressed itself strongly in his likes and 
dislikes. He said in later years to the venerable official that 
in his student days he admired him and reverenced him but 
that there were times when his admiration was not in working 
order. 

If he did not like a thing his instinct. for improvement would 



22 RICHMOND COLLEGE 

spring into action. There was a Literary Society in the College 
which he joined but he soon found himself discontented. It 
lacked snap and force and he said so, and he and Charley 
Ryland and W. S. Penick decided that conditions would be 
bettered by the organization of another Society. They thought 
that the two would stimulate each other and a higher standard 
of excellence be maintained. Accordingly the three young 
men decided to launch the new organization at the opening 
of the second session. 

This was done, young Ryland suggesting its name, — "Philolo- 
gian" and William suggesting W. S. Penick as its first president. 
"I think" "said Charles Ryland referring to the new Society, 
"that more than any other single person he [William E. Hatcher] 
shaped its early life and gave it popularity in the College." 

The following letter was written recently by a lady who was 
a student in those days in the Richmond Female Institute. 
She thus describes the young Bedford student, Mr. William 
Hatcher : 

"He said of himself in his inimitable style that he started to 
College as a verdant country youth fearing the fool killer 
would seize him before he reached Richmond. But the faculty 
welcomed him as a lad of unusual promise. They placed him 
in the front rank and kept him on the roll of honor during 
his College career. Like many freshmen he took the role of 
cynic and woman hater. Perhaps he thought he could pursue 
his studies better under this guise. He was handsome and 
witty, so that "the girls" of that period who are the grand- 
mothers and great grandmothers of today — or, of yesterday — 
were anxious to make his acquaintance. But he resolutely 
declined all invitations and always expressed his contempt for 
the fair sex when as college orator he had an opportunity to 
express his views. He declared that he could forgive their 
ignorance of literature if they knew anything of domestic 
science; but that while they read nothing more uplifting than 
Godey's Lady's book, they marveled how the apples ever got 
into the dumplings. I do not use quotation marks because his 



RICHMOND COLLEGE 23 

language was better than my memory. These remarks were 
listened to by the senior class of the Richmond Female Insti- 
tute, young ladies whose professors were proud of their way of 
reciting Butler's Analogy, Virgil, and Mathematics. Of course 
they yearned for revenge." 

He heard that a young pastor from Baltimore, Rev. George 
B. Taylor, would deliver an alumni address before the College. 
The thought of a young minister speaking under such con- 
ditions fired his imagination and kindled his desire to hear 
him. He heard him, — the subject of the address being 'The 
Thinker." 

He afterwards wrote; "I did not meet the alumni orator on 
the occasion but I saw men and women shaking hands with 
him in a pleased way, and I knew that he hit the nail on the 
head. I joined the student gang as they plodded out and 
despaired of ever doing anything like that." 

He himself made a striking address in July 1856. It was 
before the Grace Street Baptist Sunday School in Richmond 
where he had been invited to make a fourth of July speech. 
The manuscript has been found among his papers and was 
written with scrupulous neatness. The sheets are sewed 
together and enclosed within a blue wrapper, on the back of 
which are written — or rather pen printed with ornamental 
border, — the words: 

"Delivered before the 

"Grace Street Sabbath School 

"July 4th 1856 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

Not a word is erased nor a line altered in the manuscript, and 
its whole appearance shows that it is the final product of much 
preparation. Even at this early period he had begun the 
practice of careful rewritings of his public discourses. His 



24 FIRST EFFORTS AT PREACHING 

address predicts the coming war between the North and the 
South. He chose as his subject, 'The influence oi Politics upon 
the country's youth", and among other things he said: "Present 
conditions indicate the overthrow of our country It seems 
that our nation wishes to exhaust the vitality of the Union 
by bleeding her at every vein by party weapons and by tearing 
her asunder . . ." He then tells them that he speaks not 
as a Southerner to justify the South but "to exhort the South 
to show a spirit of tolerance and patience befitting the solemn 
position which we occupy." Civil War would be worse, he 
declared, than foreign war with England. 

"Let England come. She can not inflict upon us half the 
mischief that must result from Civil war. . . . Civil War 
in the Union!!! Oh my countrymen and my God! .... 

"I never gaze into the calm eye of a promising boy without 
sighing: 'How like lambs for the slaughter' 

"Little boys, don't be politicians. . . . Your country calls 
you to be patriots. Your God calls you to be christians." 

In his first efforts at preaching, however, William had much 
to discourage him. He had had no homiletical instruction. 
His first attempt seems to have been made during his vaca- 
tion in Bedford and after his first year in College. He went 
over to a nearby house where a young man was holding a 
series of meetings. The preacher laid hold of him and put 
him up for a sermon. After the performance, as William was 
walking away in the dark, he heard an old fellow say to some 
one "I dun got a fa'r night's sleep while that feller was talkin' " 
The remark sent him on his way in a crumpled and shattered 
condition. A stinging blow of that nature always withered 
him. Some young men could make ludicrous spectacles of 
themselves and suffer collapse and yet shake it off with a 
laugh, but not so with William. He fought hard to avoid 
such disasters but when they came it was not in his nature to 
make light of them. 

It is true that we have no record of these early failures 



FIRST EFFORTS AT PREACHING 25 

except the recitals of his own pen and his failures may have 
seemed greater to him than to others. He related that the 
president of the College used to send the young ministerial 
students to preach at one of the Colored Baptist churches 
of the city. Some said he sent them that they might practice 
on the colored hearers. "He sent me once" said William 
"and the way in which I tried the people effectually cut me 
off from any further practice on my part." 

He was given another opportunity at a Mission and he 
said: "My text and I had a misunderstanding at the start and 
were never on speaking terms afterwards." It was during 
his second summer vacation that a kind hearted old kinsman 
at whose house he was visiting said: "William I want you to 
stay over Sunday and preach and let me see what you can 
do." William did not fancy the mode of invitation for he did not 
feel that he had any preaching wares to be putting on exhibi- 
tion but he preached. "It was forty years" he said "before 
I was invited to that pulpit again." 

But the tide soon turned. During this same Summer a 
message came to him one day from old Father Harris telling 
him that a meeting was to begin at Suck Spring Church on 
the next Sunday and as the old pastor could not be present on 
the opening day, he asked William to preach for him. With 
a fluttering of heart he consented and set about his prepara- 
tion. He said: "I conned over my text, walked it in the woods, 
combed out the tangles of my thoughts, went on my knees 
about it and then with many dreads and with enough awkward- 
ness to enliven a circus I went to the appointment." He 
preached from the text: "Come unto me all ye that labor and 
are heavy laden and I will give you rest" and he said that as he 
preached, the fires in his own heart seemed to kindle; his 
text opened before him with a new and heavenly richness 
and his soul feasted and reveled in it as he gave it out to his 
hearers. 

As he was jogging homewards after the service an old gentle- 



26 FIRST EFFORTS AT PREACHING 

man, a deacon of the church, stately and dignified rode up 
beside him in the road and said : 

"I must have you for dinner today" and then later on he 
said — and William noticed that the old gentleman's voice 
choked as he spoke: 

"How I wish my boys could have gotten into the church 
today and could have heard you. I think they could not have 
resisted it." 

His words fell like music upon the young preachers 
ears. Nothing like it had he ever heard before. But another 
surprise awaited him. A second gentleman soon joined them, 
in their ride, — William's old teacher. 

"Who is to conduct these meetings?" the teacher asked 
but the other did not seem to know. Whereupon the teacher 
who was a Methodist, said: "If you could get this boy, my old 
school boy, to do the preaching and he would tell that story 
as he told it today we would have a great revival." It is not 
known what "that story" was which so impressed the old 
teacher but it was this plan of telling one great story in a 
sermon that took root in his ministry and bore rich fruit in his 
subsequent life. 

On Tuesday morning, to his overwhelming surprise, he 
received a request from the old pastor that he would come 
back to Suck Spring Church and help him in the meetings. 
He responded to the request and preached day by day in 
meetings that became memorable in that section of the country. 
"It was as sweet as the grapes of eschol" he said "it had 
in it the very wines of the celestial kingdom and put a new 
light on life and a new peace in my heart." 

The following narrative of an incident that occured in the 
meetings shows his habit of taking note of ludicrous situations 
in the midst of solemn surroundings. 

"It rained one night" he said "shutting in a restless hound. 
At the close of my sermon I called on a brother to make a 
special prayer. It was a brother who had a voice sepulchral 
in his depths and mountainous in its elevations. He began 



HUMOROUS INCIDENTS IN MEETINGS 27 

under ground, resembling somewhat a bumble bee in a barrel, 
or the solemn rumble of a wind in a cellar. Every sentence 
gave new strength and swell to his voice until there was some 
solicitude felt about the roof. Not long after he began his 
prayer I, who was kneeling in the pulpit, heard a most piteous 
and piercing whine behind me. For a time I felt entirely too 
devout to investigate the trouble but I found that every time 
the praying brother climbed a new note higher in his prayer 
this dismal noise behind me and right at my feet also grew 
in strength until I felt constrained to look around. 

"It was the immense hound and the extraordinary vocal 
exercises which were going on at the foot of the pulpit steps 
were evidently getting upon his nerves. The prayer was 
affecting the hound very seriously and I made a sort of calcula- 
tion based on my acquaintance with the ascending scale of 
Brother Lee's vocal power in prayer with the result that I con- 
cluded that if the dog rose in his vocal excitement correspond- 
ingly with the brother that the church would hear a mountain 
howl that would be most unfriendly to our revival." 

His ability to see humorous features that might be lurking 
about an incident appeared in one of his visits to hear Dr. 
Jeter preach at Grace Street Church. Doctor Jeter was 
comparing the glory of the christian to the distinctions of 
earth and William thus writes regarding tire sermon: 

"He was in the preaching humor and was towering in his 
passionate eloquence. Rising to the climax and with his voice 
at the highest pitch he exclaimed: 

" 'I would rather be a christian than to have the wealth of the 
Rothchilds; I would rather be a christian than to be the presi- 
dent of these United States; I would rather be a christian than 
to wear the crown of England and — I would rather be a christian 
(here he was very high) than to — than to be (here he began to 
shake and fall) rather be a christian I say, — than than to be — 
than I say to be — Julius Caesar.' 

"Why he lugged in the tyrannical Caesar at this point I 
never knew. He may have thought that he would meet the 
exigencies of the case inasmuch as the imperial Caesar is 
reputed to be useful in stopping a crack to keep the wind away. 
I suspected that he brought in the blood-thirsty old Roman in a 
spirit of vexation and as a curt way of expressing contempt for 
himself." 



28 COLLEGE REVIVAL 

His passion for souls that had been kindled in his Suck 
Spring meetings burned within him at College. He set his 
heart upon having a great revival of religion among the students 
and it was characteristic of him that when once he had set 
for himself a high task his soul would flame with the purpose 
to accomplish it. His prayers and efforts were rewarded and 
a revival broke out among the students. Meetings were held 
every day "and nearly every student was brought to Christ" 
says Rev. W. J. Shipman, one of the students. "He (William 
E. Hatcher) was the prime mover in this revival and through 
his efforts it was kept up. He was the leader and he was the 
one who led Joe Turner to the Saviour. William E. Hatcher 
was prominent in every religious movement in the College 
while he was there." The meetings wrought a spiritual up- 
heaval in the College. "They produced a remarkable effect 
upon College life" said Dr. Ryland and in later years William 
writes: "The memories of that revival would fill a book and 
rarely do they ever come back without opening the fountains 
of my soul." 

One Wednesday night he attended a prayer meeting at 
the Grace Street church and his little trip brought to him a 
new and life-long friend. He writes regarding Rev. Geo. B. 
Taylor: 

"Just before my graduation I was one night at the Grace 
Street Church prayer meeting and found this young minister 
present with his bride, they being then on a visit to his parents. 
How modestly proud he was as he presented that fair treasure 
of his soul to his old church friends and was met with joyous 
congratulations on every side. It is a choice memory to me 
that in some way he singled me out and said a few words not a 
bit patronizing, but so simple and offhand that it marked an 
epoch in my life. I went out with a new glow in me — a feeling 
of comradeship with men as the possible thing to come." 

Rev. W. J. Shipman says in a letter concerning William E. 
Hatcher that he "was considered a student of superior intellect." 
Dr. Willingham who knew him later in life said "he had the 
brightest mind of any man I ever knew." 



GRADUATION 29 

"Rev. Wm. E. Hatcher's course at Richmond College (says 
the Herald quoting from "The True Index") was a brilliant 
one, closing with a graduating address which electrified the 
audience and sent many of them home with the sage reflection 
"That young man will make his mark." 

This reference to his graduating address brings us to the 
end of his College career. "When he made his graduating 
address at the Commencement" writes Dr. Pilcher "he captured 
the audience as no other graduate had done and stepped into 
enviable prominence." The subject of his address was "The 
Graduate." He emerged from College with his field of labor 
already chosen. He had accepted a call from the Baptist 
Church in Manchester — a town on the other side of the river. 
Against this shabby town he had picked up a violent prejudice. 
In describing his feelings about the place before he had even 
thought of going there he said: "When I was in a mood to make 
bad wishes against anybody I wished that they might have to 
live in Manchester." 

After the College Commencement he spent a month with 
his father at the home in Bedford. The father was then in his 
76th year. William writes : 

"We were much together and yet, blame me if you will, not 
a word passed about my pastorate and not a word as to his 
religious belief or his mental attitude towards the scriptures. 
At times I had twinges of self reproach and felt a wondering 
sense of responsibility; but somehow I could not get my lips 
to frame the words." 

Such reluctance to speaking to other members of the family 
about their religious condition seems to have been a Hatcher 
trait. Dr. Jeter said that his mother — who was a sister of 
William's father, — never spoke to him about being a christian 
and yet he said he always felt that she was praying for him. 
William bade his father and family good bye, closed his Bedford 
visit and hurried to Manchester, there to begin his career as 
pastor. 



CHAPTER IV 

FIRST YEAR OF MANCHESTER PASTORATE 

1858-1861 

The town of Manchester seemed like a blot upon the map; 
and, as for the church, it lacked almost everything except a 
big indebtedness. 

The church building was only partially completed. $7,000 
worth of work had been done upon it, but only SI, 500 had been 
raised to pay for this work. In addition to this, the church 
membership was demoralized and scattered. 

How came this popular young minister to link himself with 
such a "forlorn hope"? The President of the College thought 
he had committed a blunder. 

"The awe inspiring president of the College ripped me up 
without mercy for accepting the call, assured me that the 
worst disasters were ahead of me and distinctly hinted to me 
that my greatness consisted in my folly. Not even his relentless 
upbraidings awoke in me one doubt as to my duty to take up 
my work in Manchester." 

With this conviction he entered upon his pastorate. It 
was only a basement room in which his church could meet 
and work and there on the first Sunday in August 1858 he 
preached his first sermon, — preached it, as he said, "to a lot 
of well behaved empty benches". The sight of the little 
woe-be-gone handful at his first service sent a chill through his 
soul. The next Sunday was like unto the first, — and his 
efforts seemed afmockery. He was young, had never had a 

30 



MANCHESTER PASTORATE 31 

church before and knew next to nothing about pastoral work. 
He realized that he had a crisis on his hands and he said he 
felt that nothing but a miracle could save the day. 

"That week I took myself out for a private interview" he 
said "and myself and I went over the situation and agreed that 
it was grim and that my incompetence was grimmer. We 
finally got together — that is, I and myself — and passed one 
resolution to the effect that we would go in with both hands 
and both feet, with heart and soul, day and night, praying all 
the time and would work one solid year though it should be 
on empty benches, though there was not a conversion, not a 
visible tear, not a sign nor symptom of interest or progress 
during all that time." 

Friday night was the time for his weekly prayer meeting 
and when he entered the room he was surprised to find such 
a goodly attendance and during the service, — Oh, wonder of 
wonders — a young woman was converted, — gloriously con- 
verted while he was speaking. He read the fact at once in her 
radiant face and streaming tears. It melted all hearts but 
it was merely the beginning. On Sunday the pastor preached 
with a new fervor, and others came forward to tell of their 
faith in Christ. A revival sprang up that stirred his church 
and the town, meetings were held night by night and the 
membership grew from 35 to more than a hundred. 

He next turned his attention to the $5,500 debt resting 
upon the church and in a rapid, aggressive campaign he raised 
the entire amount. 

The auditorium of the church was still unfinished and 
another campaign, therefore, was set on foot and in a short 
while the building was completed and pastor and people 
moved up into their new and larger church quarters. 

After these months of strain he hurried away to his beloved 
Bedford, — in the midst of winter. He felt that he ought to 
speak to his old father about his soul and about his preparation 
for the other Jworld,^ f or^up to this time neverja word to the 
old man about his religious condition had ever passed his lips. 



32 HIS FATHER'S TESTIMONY 

He went and precious days he had with his father, but the 
last day had come and the one subject above all others had 
not been mentioned in any of their conversations. The rest 
of the story is told by William. : 

"I felt so much the pain of the long drawn out silence between 
us. I was to leave early one morning; it was mid-winter, and 
the weather was rough, and the station was fully eight miles 
away, and my father shocked the family by announcing that 
he would take me to the station. It did not seem to be a 
prudent thing, for by this time he was in his seventy-sixth 
year and walked with a weakening step. But he had a will 
and a way of his own which, while rugged and decided, was 
not stormy nor harsh — only, when he said it all interrogation 
points were taken down, and the thing was settled. 

"I recall the morning that we moved out along the old lane, 
and how unusually sober and taciturn he seemed to be; but 
after we turned into the main road, he said: 

" 'I was anxious to come with you because I have something 
to say to you.' 

"He told me then, with no sign of fear, but with some tender 
symptoms of emotional sorrow, that he felt that his strength 
was fast going and that I seemed so set upon my work that 
he really doubted whether he would ever see me again, and 
that he did not want a final separation until he had made a 
statement. 

" 'I. have never talked with you, my son/ he said, very 
soberly, 'about my own religious outlook. Perhaps you have 
thought it strange that I did not, but felt that I ought to have 
trusted you more/ 

" 'No, father/ I said, 'there has been a fellowship between 
us. I cannot say that I know the secrets of your heart, but 
in some way I have had an abounding faith in 3^ou. I have 
sometimes chided myself that I did not talk with you, but I 
always justified myself by the thought that you knew me, and 
I knew you.' 

"He seemed delighted. He brightened up gloriously, and 
seemed to feel that he was put on a better footing, and then his 
long voiceless faith told its story. He said that in the long, 
far back past he was stricken with conviction, felt the need of a 
Saviour's mercy, and that while out in the farm where his 
servants were working he found his trust in God, and was made 



HIS FATHER'S TESTIMONY 33 

to rejoice in the hope of eternal life. He spoke of it as a distinct, 
decisive, and unquestionable experience, and from that dated 
his christian life. He said that at first he was so startled and so 
stricken with a sense of weakness that he did not tell it, and 
that silence became the mood of his new experience. He told 
me also that at the time he much desired to go into the church, 
but that there was a grievous feud raging in the church at the 
time, and he felt that it would not help him spiritually to get 
into the atmosphere of the wrangling. I could but respect him 
for shrinking away from such an unhealthy church atmosphere, 
and in my later life I have had occasion to question whether 
it was desirable that a young christian should be flung into the 
hostile winds of a church strife. I know that my heart filled 
with unutterable sympathy for the loneliness of his christian 
life, filled with a feeling that it was better to be shut out than 
shut in with a church life that could not nourish and protect 
him. 

"I can hardly recall the things that were said at that point 
in our conversation, but I do know that in that morning ride 
we found God's time for our talk. I had intended to speak to 
him that morning, had my heart fully set upon doing so, but 
it was far better for him to take the initiative part, and it was 
the blessing of my life time to hear him with such brief, common 
words, and with such rising ardors tell of the peace which he 
had had in God, of the joy that he had had in prayer, and of the 
sustaining hope that then filled him, and of his readiness to go 
hence whenever his Saviour beckoned him to come. It was 
plain, old-time religious talk, straight out of his heart, broken 
a little by emotion and maybe with some of its grammar not 
in its best form; but it was a testimony that has been part of 
the heritage of this world to me. It was a light that broke out 
at eventide for him and for me in the freshness of the morning, 

"'But there is one thing I ought to tell you,' he said, 'and 
that is that in reviewing my religious course, I am not satisfied. 
I never lost my faith, I never lost my peace, but I lost much 
by not coming out. I lost baptism, I lost fellowship with the 
good people in the church. I lost my christian influence, and 
I feel deeply and will probably feel forever that I lost much in 
the other world by not doing better in this.' 

"The sun glowed with a heaven born luster on the Bedford 
hills as we had that memorable, that delicious conversation. 
It put songs in my soul, and while I saw the moisture on his 
eyelids when he shook hands and I bounded on the train, I 



34 MANCHESTER 

went my way rejoicing. I had what I had longed for. My 
father had spoken, and I was satisfied. Only three brief 
months fled away, and the tidings, too slow in coming, reached 
me that the end had come, and I saw him no more." 

Two great religious gatherings were held in Richmond 
during May and June. The first was the Southern Baptist 
Convention composed of representative Baptist ministers and 
laymen from all the Southern states. He had never looked 
upon this large body. He thus describes his first sight of the dis- 
tinguished Dr. Richard Fuller. It occurred on the opening 
night of the Convention. 

"I found myself on that lower platform fearfully jammed up 
against a rugged old gentleman with a touseled head, obstrusive 
features and an eye of diamond splendor and my distinct 
impression was that he was a well-to-do cattle merchant from 
the mountains. So far as my position would allow I listened 
with interest to several becoming little speeches setting forth 
the claims of Dr. Richard Fuller of Baltimore for the presidency. 
At once I favored his election for it would enable me to see 
him — he at that time being the most eminent pulpit orator in 
the South. He was chosen without opposition and my surprise 
can be imagined when I say that when they summoned the 
Doctor to the platform to assume the gavel, my oppressive 
mountaineer, who was fast exhausting my breath, turned out 
to be the veritable Dr. Fuller. I had private as well as public 
reasons for rejoicing in his election." 

In the next month occurred the gathering of the Virginia 
Baptists in their General Association. This body met in the 
city of Richmond and one day during its sessions the youthful 
pastor from Manchester was called to the front to tell of the 
wonderful blessings that had come upon his church. 

The person who influenced him most largely was Dr. J. B. 
Jeter. During the summer he labored with the Doctor in 
revival meetings. This aged minister was of noble, com- 
manding personality with high mental and spiritual gifts 
and his young cousin seemed to imbibe much of the best 
that was in the old man. But this did not obscure William's 



MEETINGS IN AMELIA AND STAUNTON 35 

sense of the ludicrous — even in the revival meetings. The 
meetings were in Amelia county. He said: 

" Almost every morning Dr. Jeter, when looking over his 
manuscripts and selecting his sermon for the day, would refer 
rather complacently to his sermon on "The Brazen Serpent." 
It was evidently one of his favorites. It had done valuable 
execution in his Masters service elsewhere and he was fond of 
preaching it. He spoke of it to me so often that I said to him 
more than once: "Bring him out; give us your 'Brazen Serpent' 
today." But he did not do so. He saved that for his last, and 
as I had never heard it I supposed it would be his best. But 
it proved an unlucky day for the brazen serpent. The Doctor 
did not break down but his manner was painfully stilted and 
his delivery frigid and feeble. Apparently the sermon pro- 
duced no effect. I was a little slow in getting out to the dinner 
table in the yard and when I reached there I found him already 
on hand and devouring his dinner with a gusto in no degree 
abated by the disaster of the morning. He met me as I walked 
up and with a grim and comical twinkle in his eye said: 'Well 
after all my brazen serpent proved a flash in the pan.' 

"As I was booked for a sermon that afternoon and was very 
anxious to put him in as a substitute I was bold enough to say 
to him: 

" T admit that the Brazen Serpent did not go well but you 
ought to preach again before leaving the community and I want 
you to preach this afternoon.' 

" 'Ah; I may go from bad to worse' he said in melancholy tone 
and yet with the smile not yet faded from his face and then 
after a little reflection he ventured: 

" 'Well I will take a turn in the bushes and will see if I can 
beat up another sermon.' 

"He preached that afternoon on 'The Woman that was a 
sinner' and it was a sermon of irresistible power." 

It was during this same Summer that there awoke within 
him an aspiration to use his pen for the public press and the 
public benefit. It came about in this way. Rev. George B. 
Taylor, who has already been referred to in these pages as 
having twice crossed the path of the youthful William — each 
time with happy effect — , was at this time pastor of the Staunton 
Baptist Church and invited his friend William E. Hatcher to 



36 LITERARY AMBITION 

aid him in meetings at his church. Mr. Hatcher went and 
writes concerning his delightful visit. His words may well be 
studied for they indicate some of the ideals that were then 
forming in his soul. Regarding Mr. Taylor's invitation he 

writes : 

"With ill-concealed rapture I accepted the call and in due 
season I went. As I look back and measure the motive of my 
going I have to say that my longing for companionship with 
him played no small part. I felt that there was a rich treasure 
in him for me. He knew so much that I knew not and knew 
it in such a way as I was eager to learn. ... He stirred me 
by his luminous talk about books. Then, too, he was growing 
fast as a writer and by my contact with him, rather than by any 
words of his, I found myself inflamed with a new ambition to 
put my pen to use in a literary and religious way. . . . How 
my soul reveled in him! He put a storm of new thoughts 
flowing over my head and heart and the influence of it never 
went out." 

The most significant words in the above communication 
are those referring to his ambition to use his pen for the public 
service. It is not his love of writing to which he refers for 
that literary aspiration seems to have been in him from child- 
hood. "The love of composition" says he "was inherent in 
me and the thought that I might see at some time some pro- 
duction from my pen burned as a flame in my soul in my 
youthful days." Such a desire has glowed in many a soul. 
Byron writes in playful fashion: 

"Tis pleasant sure to see one's name in print. 
A book's a book although there's nothing in it." 

Mr. Hatcher naturally loved to build up sentences. "We 
have great respect" he writes "for the man who writes from 
a genuine passion for composition." His Staunton visit 
seemed to awake in him an ambition to use his pen for higher 
purposes than his own gratification. He resolved to use it — as 
he expresses it — "in a literary and religious way". Henceforth 



THE BUSY PASTOR 37 

his pen was destined to become an instrument of cheer and 
blessing to thousands and thousands of readers. 

He had had no home of his own up to this time but the coming 
of his widowed sister with her happy hearted daughter linked 
them together in a house keeping arrangement that provided 
a home for the three under very delightful conditions. 

But the young pastor had a task that sorely tested his 
leadership. His church membership, instead of being a homo- 
geneous body, was a conglomeration. 

"Our choir leader was turned out for habitual cruelty to his 
wife. Our clerk was found to be spending many of his nights 
at the card table. Our senior deacon who collected the money 
for my salary had his drunken sprees much more regularly 
than he paid me my salary and the most prominent woman of 
the church had almost infinite genius for breeding disorders." 

It was not long, however, before the Baptist Church re- 
sembled a bee hive in activity. Every night the lights burned 
brightly in the building and the young pastor was on hand 
with some sacred device for attracting the young people, 
satisfying their social aspirations, disciplining them in Bible 
study and enlisting them in Christian service. 

He taught a Singing Class on Thursday nights and on 
Sundays he was the choir leader as well as the preacher. His 
friend, John R. Bagby, still a student at the College, and 
himself a musician would come over and help him with his 
music and together they would often take up a new song 
book and sing it through at one time. A Debating Society 
among his young people was organized which became quite 
famous in the town and which received frequent notice in the 
Richmond papers. As for the devotion of the members, a 
lady writes: "A number of them seldom drew their pay on 
Saturday night that they did not buy something to send to 
their pastor." 

But already one of the most powerful forces within his 
soul had begun to manifest itself, — his love for boys. All 



38 WORK WITH BOYS 

classes of people gained his interest and for them he would 
make sacrifices, but he would go the farthest length for boys, — 
especially those whose lot was narrow and lonely. He had 
them in his home, in his study, in his walks. Often he would 
have them spend a night, or a week, — sometimes to stay 
indefinitely, as in the case of Harvey Nunnally and others. 
Dr. C. V. Waugh, of Florida, now an honored minister, was 
one of these boys and he writes : 

"No mortal can ever know what he was to me. ... I love 
him next to my own dear mother. He showed me my life's 
work and helped me in so many ways to get ready for it. . . . 
As long as I live I shall incarnate him in me all I can." 

The sight of a boy touched the deepest springs of his 
sympathy. Why was this? He writes : 

"Possibly it was the hardships of my boyhood, my loneli- 
ness without a mother, my bothers about an education, the 
perplexities of my religious struggles and withal some heavenly 
suggestion unheard but powerfully felt, that kindled from the 
beginning of my ministry a peculiar interest in boys. My 
consciousness of it was in revivals and every boy that evinced 
decided interest in religion instantly grappled me." 

He organized a Boy's Meeting which became a bright spot 
in the life of many a neglected lad. 

His second Summer arrived and again he hied himself 
away to the country, — this time to hold a series of revival 
meetings at the Fine Creek Church with Rev. P. S. Henson. 
"William E. Hatcher and P. S. Henson were both distinguished 
preachers at that early day" writes Dr. Geo. W. Hyde. "They 
were both exceedingly popular. These noble preachers held 
forth to great audiences for about ten days." Some happy 
sequels were to follow from these meetings. 

A bit of news reached him one day in Manchester that filled 
his sky with blackness. It was his first experience of the kind 
and he thought that the end of his ministry had come. 



STARTLED BY A RUMOR 39 

"For a time I never dreamed that I could outlive it," he 
writes. "A big, rugged fellow turned the rumor into the street 
that he had seen me in one of the most disorderly bar rooms in 
Richmond and in my simplicity I believed that everybody 
would believe it and I had hours of entirely unnecessary 
anguish about it, although I knew that I had never crossed the 
threshold of a bar room. The rumor dissolved and I survived 
and I began to learn that, as a rule, slander will cure itself if 
you will only give it time." 

From that day he seems to have adopted the policy of 
ignoring his slanderers — resolving that while he would look 
after his character, his reputation he would leave in the hands 
of God and of his friends. 



CHAPTER V 

THE CIVIL WAR. MARRIAGE. REVIVAL EXPERIENCES. 

1861-1866 

But the little squalls that had shaken his pastoral skiff 
were but faint breezes compared with the tempest that was 
gathering over his head. War between the North and the 
South seemed imminent. This young pastor had raised his 
warning in his address at the Grace Street Sunday School 
three or four years previously. For months he had detected 
the mutterings of the coming storm and he knew Richmond 
would be the center of it and as he stood at the head of his 
little flock he often trembled and cast anxious glances out 
into the future. 

The news came that South Carolina and other states had 
severed their connection with the United States Government. 
The North called such action rebellion. The whole country 
was growing restless and the days arrived for Virginia to 
cast her vote either in favor of seceding from the Union, or 
against it. The Memorable "Secession Convention" assembled 
in Richmond, and the eyes of the South were turned thither 
awaiting the verdict. Mr. Hatcher hurried over with anxious 
steps to the Capitol and was in the jam and surge of the gallery 
crowd on that eventful day. He saw the Convention — saw 
the final, mighty effort to avert the split from the Union — 
and then he heard the Convention's fateful decision for, — 
Secession, and a few days later he saw the war cloud burst 
upon Richmond. "Ah what was it" says he "of battle, of 
tragedy, of victory, or suffering, or destitution, or wreck that 
I did not see during those pregnant and historic years." 

40 



THE TRAGEDIES OF WAR 41 

An entirely new situation now confronted him. His church 
work of the past three years, so eminently fruitful, seemed in 
danger of being torn up by the roots. The men were being 
hurried into the army, the women were busy with sewing and 
other preparations for their departing husbands and sons, 
and the dominant thought was not religion, but war. In the 
meantime, the multitudes were nocking into Richmond which 
soon became the headquarters of the Southern army and 
of the new Southern government, and Manchester had to 
accommodate the overflow and to serve as a tramping ground 
and the young pastor found himself caught in the maelstrom 
of new and bewildering tasks. Not only did his agitated 
members, and the constant stream of strangers in his con- 
gregation, demand his attention; not only did he seek to main- 
tain some semblence of church work, but the wounded ones 
in the hospitals, the sorrowing ones in the community, had to 
be visited and ministered to and the final words had to be 
spoken over the dead. The booming of the cannon around 
Richmond and the continuous passing of the soldiers through 
the town kept the people excited and often idle and reckless. 

He lived rapidly during these frightful days and tragedies 
were his constant companions. For example, he tells of a 
bright, beautiful boy in Bedford, who had been converted in 
his Suck Springs meetings and who just before the war had 
informed Mr. Hatcher of his decision to prepare himself for 
the ministry. "He fairly shouted at the sight of me" says 
Mr. Hatcher "drew me from the sluggish train and breathed 
to me the story which burned as a fire in his heart." And 
then came the tragedy! The war blast rang through the 
state; this youth responded, fell a victim to measles in the 
trenches around Richmond, "died ingloriously in the hospital" 
and to the Manchester pastor came the harrowing experience 
of following the young man's body to his Bedford home and 
seeking to give comfort where the light of the family had 
gone out. Simply one specimen was this of the desolations 
that were ploughing his heart month by month. 



42 THE DAYS OF WAR 

The people were beginning to feel the pinch of the war. It 
looked as if everything had to go to the soldiers, and the folks 
at home lived on a scrimpy margin. 

"There were no schools, no factories, no new buildings, no 
furniture stores, no dry goods stores, few places for buying 
plows, or wagons, or carriages. What we had was wearing out 
and 'twas hard to find any more, even if we had money to buy 
them with. 

"The women attended no new Spring Openings and heard 
of no such thing as bargain counters. ... I knew one 
pastor who said he was well acquainted with every bonnet and 
hat in his congregation and that there was scarcely one that 
he had not known for several years. They might be changed, 
re-dyed, or trimmed up in new colors, but they lingered all 
through the war." 

The war had its compensations, however. In November 
1862 a glorious revival broke upon his church and ran its 
course for many weeks, continuing through Christmas and 
far into January, the Herald of January 8th, 1863 reporting 
"There have been 115 professions of conversions at the 
Manchester Baptist Church and the meeting is still in progress." 

"The first time this writer's attention was called to Rev. 
W. E. Hatcher," writes Mr. Jeffries of Warren ton "was when 
he was in co-operation with Rev. J. Wm. Jones, John A. 
Broadus, A. E. Dickinson, Dr. Doggett and others in their 
religious work with the Confederate soldiers when they were 
near to Richmond. . . ."- 

It is interesting to note how frequently his revival campaigns 
with other ministers would be attended with some amusing 
experience. There seemed to be in his nature something that 
reacted from a too prolonged, serious strain. In fact the 
solemn seems to lie along the border of the comical and if it 
is an easy passage from a tear to a smile it is also true that 
in many of his straining evangelistic seasons he would see 
something odd, or ludicrous. 



THE PASTOR IN LOVE 43 

He went to the assistance of a young ministerial friend in 
the country, — to aid him in revival meetings at his church. 
He threw himself ardently into the campaign and the meeting 
started off well. But there was trouble brewing. 

"A dulness clutched the situation. You could feel it. It 
grew on apace until it scared me to preach — in fact I could not 
preach. My sermons dragged and lumbered and gave out 
neither heat nor light. I told the pastor that either I had lost 
my religion, or someone else had. But in my heart I was 
suffering. It cut me to the marrow in my bones to see things 
fail so. My sleep forsook my eyelids, and I made an August 
night forty hours long with my groanings. Daylight found 
me red of eye, full of fidgets and set on finding out something. 
I found it. 

"The pastor was a College mate and we were chums. As 
a rule my chums are like popes and kings — infallible to me. 
I had no reproach for my chum, though he did strain me by 
his lack of fervor in the meeting. He was too congenial with a 
failure to suit my standards, and more so now because he 
was not always that way. But still I do not believe that I 
suspected him. One afternoon another man preached — 
preached forcibly and with effect. I sat in the corner near the 
pulpit, and the pastor was in the pulpit. When I looked at 
the man preaching I had the pastor in the line of my vision. 
I saw that he was not listening to the sermon. It got on to me 
hard as I saw his wilful inattention and I was distressed but 
not in an accusing mood. 

"After awhile I saw that his gaze went often along a line 
which led to a certain window seat over on the ladies' side. 
His look was most absorbed and was attended with smiles — 
very tender and meaningful smiles. Candor forces me to say 
that I did not follow that line along which the pastor's en- 
chanted glances sped so steadily — not until the congregation 
was singing the doxology. Then I looked and I saw a sight a 
very fair sight indeed, but a sight which told a story. It was 
upon a young woman with black eyes and cheeks of rose that 
the young pastor had been gazing to the absolute neglect of 
the sermon. It was a case of too much sweetheart for him to 
be wrapped in revival flames. 

"The spirit of the reformer was upon me. I invited the 
offender to a stroll down by the milldam, and throttled him, 



44 A RIFT IN THE CLOUD 

crushing him as best I could with my fierce accusations. He 
denied quite vaguely and largely, but in as guilty a way as you 
ever saw. He did, however, admit that he was an adorer of the 
young woman and with that he dropped all of his defences, 
except that he thought it due to himself to say that the young 
woman in question was the jewel of all creation and that his 
thoughts were running her way. I grew authoritative and 
said things. On general principles I granted that love was 
beautiful and marriage honorable entirely, but that for a young 
preacher to allow himself to be enmeshed in a revival meeting 
and jerked into a love scrape was unseemly and sinful. I 
expressed a purpose to take the next boat but he flew wild 
against it. Finally, I compromised to the point of agreeing 
that if he would blow the matter out of mind, pledge himself 
to give his attention wholly to the meeting and covenant not 
to say anything in the remotest way to the girl until the meeting 
was over, I would remain. To this he agreed, — in rather an 
impenitent spirit I must admit. 

" After this agreement we strolled to the house where the 
young damsel lived, and the pastor clandestinely communicated 
with the young lady and asked to see her in the parlor alone, 
at once. He related to her the whole matter including his 
pledge made to me, and then added: "I wish to say to you that 
I fully intended to propose marriage to you this day but, this 
being rendered impossible by my pledge, I wish to notify you 
that as soon as the meeting closes I fully intend to court you." 

"The meeting dropped to an early demise, and in five months 
the couple were living in matrimonial bliss on six hundred a 
year, Confederate money, valued at two cents and a half in 
gold to the dollar. They did well, but they killed that meeting." 

In the Summer of 1864 there appeared a rift in the cloud 
for the young pastor. While attending an Association in 
Buckingham County he was introduced to a young lady from 
Fork Union, — Miss Virginia Snead — a recent graduate from 
the Albemarle Female Institute. She, with a party of young 
people, had driven over to the meetings. In the company 
was Mr. Pumphrey Seay who had known Mr. Hatcher at 
College, and during the intermission he brought the Manchester 
pastor up to the dinner table and presented him to Miss 
Snead. That afternoon Mr. Hatcher preached in the church. 



A RIFT IN THE CLOUD 45 

The building was crowded and Miss Snead sat on the back 
bench where the noises coming from the loud talking out in 
the yard made it difficult for those in the rear to hear, but she 
found herself making earnest effort to catch the words of the 
preacher. His text was "God is love" and "every word seemed 
appealing. At that time he was slim and weighed about 140 
pounds. His hair was auburn of a reddish tint; his eye was 
his best feature. In the discussions he was often called out 
to give his views and flashes of humor would break forth in 
his talks and addresses." 

The fair visitor from Fork Union attracted him and in a 
few weeks he found himself at Fork Union attending the 
Albemarle Association and was entertained at the home of 
Mr. George H. Snead, the father of his recent acquaintance. 

At the invitation of the pastor he held revival meetings 
at the Fork Church. "He was a great favorite. All were 
eager to entertain him. Crowds of young people went to 
spend the evening where he went." 

While holding the meetings at Fork Union he stayed much at 
the home of Miss Snead, but he was very guarded in his move- 
ments. Already he had spoken to her the fateful words and 
received her affirmative response, but they were anxious to 
keep their engagement from being bruited around in the 
community to the injury of the meetings. He talked to the 
other members of the company each evening rather than to 
her and yet he wrote her a letter every night. The secret 
was kept until after the meetings were over and the announce- 
ment was then made of the approaching marriage on December 
22nd. 

In one of his letters to his fiancee he writes as follows: 

"Manchester, Va., November 10, 1864. 
"Dear Jennie, — Time is unfolding startling scenes in my 
domestic drama. Four months ago I could hardly have 
imagined that aught could disturb the profound current of 
family quiet. Change in its wide spread ravages seemed 
willing to pass my home untouched. But we are touched. 



46 LETTER TO HIS FIANCEE 

Love has struck a blow at us and we are, as huntsmen say, 
flushed. Lest I should bewilder you by such a frightful pre- 
amble, I'll explain. 

"There is no need that I should apprize you of the fact that 
your humble servant has fallen an untimely, if not unwilling, 
victim of love. I am, like Jonah, fairly caught, but pray that 
I may not like him be thrown overboard. It is not, however, of 
myself that I wish just now to write. Here is the point. : . ." 

After writing of certain suggested housekeeping plans he 
thus continues. 

"Let us think of each other — often and earnestly let us pray 
for each other. If God permits our union I pray that it may 
be for his glory. We can make each other very happy, or very 
miserable, just as we choose. All of our future is before us. 
Can we spend it without a harsh word, or an unkindly thought? 

"Our feelings, hopes and plans must be one. No earthly 
object is to come between us. Errors will crop out now and 
then. With gentle sympathy, mingled with true candor, we 
must seek to extract them. I deny the blindness of true love. 
If it be blind, I am a stranger to it. It can not be so, for true 
love is founded on true appreciation of character and has the 
sanction of taste and judgment. It is quick to see faults in 
its object and, if conscientious, is anxious to correct them. But 
if it is quick of eye it is also tender of heart and slow of speech. 
Its voice of chi dings is as gentle as its breathings of devotion 
and love. You will be my pride, I revel in the happiness of 
my love and, if not a christian, would gloat over the woes of my 
enemies. Now I pray for them." 

The remainder of this letter is lost. The letter was written 
in pencil on very plain, yellow paper such as was used in those 
war-ridden days; the hand- writing is natural and plain. At 
the time of making his avowal of love he said to her that she 
would be to him "the first and only one," and yet he asked 
that she would not hinder him in doing his duty as a minister 
and not come between him and his God. The motto which 
he selected for the wedding ring was characteristic: 
"Heaven smiles and claims us." 

It was a merry and distinguished group that met Mr. Hatcher 



HIS MARRIAGE 47 

one afternoon in Richmond at the Packet wharf about the 
21st of December, 1864, to accompany him on the boat to 
Fluvanna to take part in the wedding festivities. This 
company included the following ministers: J. B. Jeter, Charles 
H. Ryland, A. B. Woodfin, John R. Bagby and Harvey Hatcher. 
Rev. Geo. W. Hyde, who expected to join the party at Dover, 
writes : 

"When the night came for me to meet the canal boat at Dover 
I was sick in bed. I lay and heard the horn of the man, who 
rode the canal boat's horses, as he blew and blew and blew for a 
long time. My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears over 
the disappointment; but I could not join that happy wedding 
party of our dear friends that night on their way to Fluvanna 
county." 

Brightly shone the sun on the little village of Fork Union 
on Dec. 22nd, and even grim war seemed to withdraw its pall 
while Dr. J. B. Jeter and the pastor, Rev. W. A. Whitescarver, 
sealed the happy vows. 

The Southern "blockade" prevented a wedding tour and 
the people of the community seemed to vie with one another 
in their congratulations and hospitalities as the wedding party 
went from home to home. The Manchester church was 
of course on tiptoe of expectancy ready with a happy welcome 
to greet their pastor and his bride. 

The war played curious pranks. For example, the Con- 
federate money was already rapidly depreciating and Mr. 
Hatcher in describing his purchases before his marriage said: 

"My ambition flamed up to the extent of giving my bride a 
watch and I went to the best jeweler in Richmond so far as I 
knew and found that he had only three watches in stock; one 
was new and it was ravishing to look at but its price mounted 
far out of my sight and I had to choose between the other two, 
both of which were second hand. I took the smallest and gaye 
six hundred dollars for it but I can testify that it never respected 
its owner and after a day or two refused to take any note of 
time. . . . 

s 

1 



48 THE FALL OF RICHMOND 

'They trumped up a skeletonian reception on the day that 
the bridal party reached my home and the only fact — which 
was probably the only fat fact — I remember was that the 
turkey which constituted the pre-eminent luxury of the day 
cost forty-six dollars and we were proud to get it at that." 

But what of the war? 

The climax was near at hand and it meant crushing sorrows 
for Mr. Hatcher and his young bride. For nearly four stressful 
years he had kept his flag of hope unfurled before his people. 
During the past weeks however distressing news had trickled 
in from the "front," but even yet he and those around him did 
not despair. The long thin lines of Lee's army were still 
stretched around Petersburg, not far away, but this was all 
that stood between Richmond and the enemy. In a few days 
the crash of doom was heard. 

It was Sunday April 2nd, and "a fairer day never blessed 
the earth," writes Mr. Hatcher. In company with others he 
was standing in his church yard. A man was seen hurrying 
towards them and as he came in front of the church he called 
out: "Bad news from Petersburg; Lee's lines were broken 
today and his army is reported in full retreat; Richmond to 
be evacuated tonight." With this announcement flung at 
the church yard group the man quickly disappeared. 

"Instant blackness" said Mr. Hatcher "covered the earth. 
A pain, as of death, shot through my heart and in that dread 
moment I knew that our cause was lost." 

The company in the church yard vanished and Mr. Hatcher 
turned his steps towards Richmond and what a spectacle 
there met his eye, — wagons, carts and carriages filling up with 
furniture, merchandise and articles innumerable. Panic ruled 
the hour and Richmond seemed to be emptying itself of all 
of its most sacred treasures and preparing for its bitter flight. 

"My walk back to Manchester" he said "withered me into 
old age. It was simply one colossal collapse. I was a man with 
out a country, without a hope and almost without God in 
the world." 



FACING A CRISIS 49 

His own town, as he returned to it, presented a sight equally 
as sickening; and as for that night which followed — he said 
the story of it could never be told, with its weeping women, 
its riotous negroes and its hurrying columns of the retreating 
army. Next morning the torch was applied to Richmond and he 
withessed the flames as they were fanned into a conflagration. 
In the meantime, the Northern army began its rush into 
Richmond, and in Manchester the negroes and lawless whites 
began their mad carnival. 

The young pastor faced a crisis. His army was gone, — fast 
hurrying southwards — and he suddenly found himself in strange 
and threatening surroundings. What should he do? He 
called for a meeting of the town Council. It was composed 
largely of old men. He reminded them of the necessity of 
something being done immediately to stem the tide of anarchy 
and to set up some form of order in the town. The old men 
seemed dazed and helpless. He and one of the town "Fathers" 
were selected to visit Richmond at once to seek from the North- 
ern officials in the city some soldiers as a guard for Manchester. 

Down the street, through the surging mobs, hurried the 
young pastor with his associate and in a short while they had 
picked their way over to Richmond and made known their 
request to one of the Generals whose army had already taken 
possession of the city. 

The General, who was angry at the burning by the Con- 
federates of the city with many of its treasures, frowned at 
them and called out gruffly: 

"Why did you set this city on fire? You want soldiers for 
Manchester and I have not enough soldiers for my own pur- 
poses here in Richmond. " 

Mr. Hatcher in respectful tone said: "Inasmuch General as 
I do not live in Richmond I hardly see how I can be held 
responsible for the fire, and, besides, what I am looking for now 
is somebody that will keep my own town from being set on 
fire." 

A faint smile lighted the grim face and, later on, a company 



50 A TILT WITH THE OTHER SIDE 

of negro soldiers were seen tramping towards Manchester 
and the situation improved. 

It seemed that he was destined to have tilts with the Gener- 
als on the other side, — these encounters, however, drawing no 
blood and usually terminating with a touch of good humor. 
One day he approached the officer in charge of the Manchester 
troops regarding some wounded soldiers that were being cared 
for in the Baptist Church : 

"Why don't you take the oath of allegiance [to the U. S. 
Government] and help me to restore order to this town?" 
asked the general in commanding tone. "You can help me 
keep order. Your government is in flight, your army in retreat. 
There is no hope for your cause." The man's manner seemed 
almost threatening and the pastor was put on his mettle. 

"I will have to admit general" he said respectfully "that 
the outlook for my cause is gloomy indeed but it is my cause. 
I have been identified with the Confederacy from its beginning 
and while its situation is exceedingly distressing its government 
still exists and its armies are still in the fields. I would find 
a blush crimsoning my cheek if I forsook my colors in the 
presence of the enemy, and I confess that I would be utterly 
ashamed for it to go abroad to our army, or to our people, that I 
had made haste to take the oath. I would lose the good will 
of those who are more than life to me. I must wait the final 
issue and if that is the downfall of the Confederacy then I 
shall have no government, no country, no citizenship and no 
protection. That will be the time for me to decide what to do 
about the oath of allegiance." 

"I must have a right warm little speech"; says Mr. Hatcher, 
"at least my heart got loose and ran flaming into my words and 
and some how I found myself gloriously indifferent to what 
he might think of my little oration. He looked at me with 
changing color and when I ended he still looked. 

" 'I'll be dogged if I don't believe you are right/ he said with 
great feeling. 'And I believe it is best for you to wait.' 

"It almost precipitated a scene. His cordial words kindled 
within me a sense of brotherhood. 

" 'And now general' I added T think I may take the liberty of 
saying to you that if I can be of any service to you and you feel 
disposed to trust me you will find me at your command. I 
desire good^order and peace as truly as you do.' " 



THE END OF THE WAR 51 

" 'Well sir, I can trust you and we will work together/ said he. 
"From that moment, I suffered no disturbance on the part of 
the Federal troops." 

This incident, while characteristic in many ways, reveals 
one of Mr. Hatcher's cardinal traits, and that was his fondness 
for putting all his dealings with men on the brotherhood 
basis. Whenever a man was thrown with him, no matter how 
widely their tastes and habits and position might vary, 
Mr. Hatcher would soon find in the other man "a brother." 
He always probed for that spot in men; he seemed to know 
where it was located and when he found it he carried on his 
negotiations with that part of the man. 

After Richmond's evacuation there followed, in a few days, 
the surrender of Lee's army and the utter collapse of the 
Southern Confederacy. 

He writes : 

"Wlien the end came, the star of southern hope went down 
in blackest night. The days which followed were so full of 
bitterness and despair that many of the older people, stripped 
of strength and fortune, sank broken hearted to their graves. 
In almost every family graveyard there was a soldier's grave; 
sometimes it was the father, sometimes the brother, and some- 
times the husband. Many sat down amid the ruins of the 
lost cause penniless and dejected and felt that there could be 
no future for them." 

But not so, the young pastor. He faced the chaotic situa- 
tion with grim but bouyant purpose and his qualities of con- 
structive leadership were put to severe test, as regarded not 
only his dismembered church but also his wretched town. 



CHAPTER VI 

THE STRUGGLE LETTERS 

1866-1867 

The condition of Manchester depressed and well-nigh ex- 
asperated him. Its streets and houses were shabby, the town 
was governed — or rather misgoverned — by a Board of Trustees, 
nearly all of them old men, and neglect and indifference stalked 
along the public ways. His instinct for improvement sprang 
into action and he yearned to bring about a change. 

In one of the factories of the town was an orphan boy who 
longed for an education and in whom Mr. Hatcher had become 
greatly interested. One day Mr. H. K. Ellyson, who had 
recently started up the Richmond Dispatch, sent a message 
over to Mr. Hatcher asking him to lend his aid in increasing 
the circulation of the paper in Manchester. Mr. Hatcher 
saw that the request gave to him the double opportunity of 
aiding his factory boy and also of striking at the evil conditions 
in the town and so he said to Mr. Ellyson that if he would 
employ his little factory friend as his Manchester carrier for 
his paper that he would try to quicken the circulation by 
writing some Manchester letters. 

He adopted a novel plan. He decided to take the place of 
a factory girl; — that is he would write for the Dispatch a 
series of letters about Manchester, just as if he were a girl 
working in one of the Manchester factories and signing, not 
her own name, but writing under the nom de plume of 
" Struggle." He determined that in writing these Struggle 
letters he would seek to awaken the town from its drowsy state 
in the matter Jof its streets, houses, factories, etc. 

52 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 53 

On Jan. 27th the first letter from Struggle appeared in the 
Dispatch and when the Manchester people opened their 
Richmond paper they saw the letter on the first page, parts of 
which read as follows: 

"Manchester, Va., January 25th. 

"Mr. Editor, — I am nothing but an humble factory girl 
but a mighty ambition struggles in my soul. From my girl- 
hood I have felt a desire to be a newspaper writer. . . . 
Once I lived in the country, — alas my country home. We 
called it Chestnut Lawn, it was a happy home. — (go back 
ye gushing tears). A stranger has the place now. . . . 

"A new notion flashed into my brain today. I have con- 
cluded to address you this letter respectfully asking (no disgrace 
for me) the privilege of writing for the Dispatch. Will you 
accept me? Why not? Don't despise me (as some do) because 
I am compelled to earn my bread by working in a cotton 
factory. If you allow me to write for you I shall have many 
things to say about factories and factory life. 

"Manchester is a remarkable place. We have remarkable 
houses, remarkable streets and] remarkables generally. Six 
commentaries could be written on this charming town. You 
shall hear of Manchester very freely if I write for you. Things 
don't move here in all respects to suit my girlish notions and i I 
would ease me greatly to write under an assumed name and 
abuse some "persons, places and things" as my grammar used 
to say. In fact, I am a woman and think for myself, never 
hesitating to express my opinion. Some girls in the factory are 
mad with me for my speeches. I care not. What suits me, I 
praise; what annoys, I condemn. 

"If you want me to write, publish this as a sort of introduction 
and when I get a candle and paper I will write more. As it 
would make me unpleasantly notorious to have my name known, 
I ask to be known under the name of 

"Struggle." 

The sleepy town rubbed its eyes and began to wonder who 
the factory girl was and what she intended publishing about 
Manchester. In the factories the question ran from lip to lip : 
"Who is this Struggle?" and many were the questions and 
jests that were bandied back and forth about the new factory 



54 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

star in the literary heavens. Each morning the people watched 
for the second letter. It appeared in the Dispatch of Jan. 31st. 



c- 



"Manchester, Va., Saturday night. 
! Mr Editor, — Do you remember the first time you ever saw 
your own writing in print? When you read it did you not ex- 
perience the most delightful sensation. . . ." 

She then describes her anxious tossing during the night and 
her rapture on seeing her letter in print next morning. She 
thus continues: 

"It is astonishing to witness the excitement which the appear- 
ance of my last letter has already produced. In the factory it is 
the theme of much talk. One girl, noted for the thickness of her 
lips and the redness of her hair, was greatly exercised on the 
subject. She expressed herself thus: 'Dont talk to me; I 
know what that gal is after; she is trying to get somebody to 
marry her.' I laughed aloud and heartily at her, for I sup- 
posed she referred to what I said about the celebrated mis- 
sionary. . . . Many factory people think that heaven 
consists in getting out of the factory by marrying. I know a 
few girls who were doing well enough before they married; 
some of them have now to support their husbands and then 
furnish them their whiskey besides. . . . 

Mr. Editor did you ever see a boss? If you never did I want 
to describe one (my own) to you. 

"Struggle. 

"P. S. — In my next I shall enlighten the public in regard to 
the streets of Manchester." 

This letter unloosed the tongues of the town, — especially 
in the factory. When three days later the newsboy began to 
cry on the street: "Richmond Dispatch, Letter from Struggle," 
there were eager hands to reach for the paper — much to the 
delight of the ambitious newsboy. 

"Manchester, Va., Thursday night. 
"Mr Editor, — When I lived in the country I knew an old 
farmer who had eight sons, to each of whom he gave the name 
of a Roman general. There were Julius Caesar, Coriolanus, 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 55 

Tiberius Gracchus and half a dozen more, with names equally 
as imposing. The old gentleman was immensely proud of 
these names. Not so with the boys. They mortally hated them 
and selected the drollest nicknames for themselves that could 
be found. In time their real names were, by most people, 
entirely forgotten. 

"The streets of Manchester forcibly remind me of the old 
farmer and his boys. Somebody — to fame unknown — once 
upon a time did give to these elongated mud holes some very 
fanciful names. . . . Strangely enough the names of these 
streets, as far as I know, are rarely used. If you ask one where 
he lives, he never gives the name of the street, but unless his 
residence happens to be on the Main Street (which, by the way, 
is Hull Street) he will describe his location. Folks live in "Mor- 
gan's Row" in "Mark's old field" and "Around Sizer's Corner," 
but nobody dreams of living on a street which actually has a 
name. What these streets — so called — are intended for is a 
mystery to me. . . . 

I boldly assert that there is not a road this side of Danville 
(I used to go to school there) as impassable for wagons or 
walkers as are the streets (except Hull) of this dilapidated town." 

After giving a description of the manner in which certain 
streets have been dug up and certain streets been allowed to 
lie in wretched neglect, she continues; 

"I wish we did have some town officers. I must stop. It is 
nearly midnight and factory people have to rise before day. 
You see what little time I have. I get home after eight o'clock 
at night and have to leave before seven in the morning. Isn't 
this night work outrageous. Very shortly I will let you hear 
from me in full on this subject. 

"Struggle. 

"P. S. — I have read this to mother and she objects to my 
sending it. She says it is too rough; do as you please about 
publishing it. I mean no harm for I love Manchester. . . .'» 

On the next morning a communication appeared in The 
Dispatch attacking the Struggle letters and was signed "Citi- 
zen." Among other things "Citizen" said: 



56 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

"Her statements in regard to the names and state of our 
streets are likely to do harm. Who would think of investing 
or settling here, under the light of her startling revelations? 
It is earnestly hoped that none will be misled by this fair young 
scribbler". 

The editor subjoins the following comment: 

" 'Citizen' is ungallant. As a lady can not hold him "per- 
sonally responsible" for his offensive language he should have 
been exceedingly guarded in his expressions, but we have an 
idea that Struggle is able to cope with him with pen or tongue 
(this latter woman's chief weapon, offensive and defensive) and 
so we let him have his say. If he repent not his indiscretion 
ere long, then we are no prophet". 

The situation grows lively and the little newsboy thinks 
that times are booming. The sentiment of the people re- 
garding the Struggle Letters was much divided, — some de- 
claring them outrageous, many others simply enjoying the 
fun, while still others hoped that the letters would awaken 
the town from its slumber. The interest in the letters was not 
bounded by the limits of Manchester, but prevailed in Rich- 
mond and in many places out in the state. 

A letter appeared in the Dispatch signed "Fair Play" which 
took the side of Struggle and closed as follows : 

"One word with regard to the fact in the case. I have been 
living here for many a long year and I really do not know the 
names of half a dozen streets in the place. Struggle is right: 
they are seldom called by their name and the wretched con- 
dition they are in is ten times worse than she represents them 
to be. 

"Fair Play." 

There was no one who enjoyed the storm more than the 
young preacher who had caused it. Wherever Mr. Hatcher 
went he encountered, — as, indeed, nearly everybody else 
did, — the clatter about the Struggle letters. On the streets 
and in his visiting many of his conversations had the letters 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 57 

of the factory girl as their theme and he plunged into the 
discussions of the publications as eagerly as did any one else. 

"Mr. Hatcher'' said some one to him one day. "Who do 
you think is writing those Struggle letters? Do you think 
it is really a factory girl?" 

"There are some things about the letters" replied Mr. 
Hatcher "that sound very much like the talk of a factory girl; 
but then there are other features of the letters that wear the 
mark of a man correspondent. The fact is I often think they 
are written by some man. What do you think about it?'' 

A communication appeared on Feb. 6th which took the side 
of Struggle. It was signed "Push On." 

Mr. Hatcher was particularly desirous that the Struggle let- 
ters should bring about a better condition for the factory girls. 

An important announcement appeared in the Dispatch of 
Feb. 7th as follows: 

"Affairs in Manchester. 
"We have secured the services of a reliable reporter for 
Manchester and in the future the citizens of that quiet, pleasant 
little town may rely on being kept thoroughly posted in all 
matters of importance. . . ." 

This was the first step towards better things for Manchester. 
It was Improvement Number 1. 

On the next day, Feb., 8th, the early cry of the Manchester 
newsboy announced another letter from Struggle. The people 
had been eager for it inasmuch as she had declared that she 
would express herself about the factories. 

"Manchester, Saturday night. 
"Mr. Editor, — I promised in my last letter to express my 
opinion very soon concerning the rule of these factories re- 
quiring their employees during nearly half the year to work 
until eight o'clock at night. As I have finished my ironing and 
mending earlier than usual to night I will consume the last 
sheet of my paper in protesting against the barbarity of this 
rule. ... If the oppressed do not cry for mercy how shall 
they find relief. . . ." 



58 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

She then draws a vivid picture of the evils of the night work 
and continues: 

"Ah well, if we die, few weep; no bells are tolled, stock 
holders smile, as before, at growing dividends and pause not to 
ask whose life Was taken to make them rich, and our places are 
soon filled. 

"I am not through but the bell sounds midnight and mother 
commands me to rest. 

"Struggle. 

"P. S.— Well, as you see, this letter was written on Saturday 
night. Little brother has had a bad cold as well as bad shoes 
and mother would not allow me to send him out until the 
weather moderated. Please send me all the papers for the week, 
as I have not seen one since last Saturday. I could sometimes 
borrow a copy of the Dispatch, but I am afraid to do it lest I 
should get questioned too closely." 

The Dispatch of Feb., 9th contained the following item in 
the "Richmond Local" column: 

"Personal, — We announce with regret that Miss Struggle, 
our Manchester correspondent, had an unfortunate fall on 
Wednesday night on returning home from the factory, by which 
she sprained her right arm. The editor received a message from 
her on yesterday saying that her injuries were slight, but such 
as made it painful for her to write. She wishes us to say that 
in her next letter she will express her opinion of the article 
signed "Citizen." Let it come for we are waiting anxiously 
for it." 

In the letters which Struggle received were several offers 
of marriage. She had stated that she sent her letters over to 
the Dispatch by her little brother and it was amusing indeed 
to note the devices which were employed to discover the 
little fellow in his tramps across the bridge. In this same 
issue of Feb., 10th, under the head of "Manchester Affairs," 
occurs the following item from the reporter: 

"The condition of that street (name unknown) that leads up 
from the office of Dr. Chiles to the African church is terrible 
in the extreme and that section of the town near Vaden's old 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 59 

factory will compare favorably with Five Points or any other 
abominable locality. . . . What the people want is a 
live Board of Trustees and not mummies and wooden men 
. . . . We are requested by a friend — a tax payer — to 
ask to whom do the Board of Trustees report or have they ever 
reported as yet any account of their stewardship. 

Ah, that Board of Town Trustees. The Municipal election 
occurs in the Spring and Mr. Hatcher hopes that that election 
day will prove the day of destiny for Manchester, when that 
Board will be neatly dropped into oblivion or at least into re- 
tirement and a new regime be inaugurated 

His hands were of course busy in his pastoral labors. His 
Philologian Debating Society, his Singing School and his in- 
numerable plans for enlisting the young and developing his 
church all made heavy drafts upon his time and strength. 

"Richmond Dispatch, February 13th. 

"Manchester on the James, February 10, 1866. 
"Messers. Editors, — ... On reading the paper this 
morning (the Dispatch of course) I notice that my silent friend 
Struggle has met with an accident. I certainly sympathize 
with her and trust that ere long she may be able to wield the 
pen again. 

"Push On." 

Certain suburbs of Richmond express their grievances in 
the Dispatch, each referring to Struggle. 

The next letter from Struggle, which is largely a reply to 
"Citizen" concludes as follows: 

"P. S. — My arm, though stiff yet, is rapidly improving. 
Would you like for me in my next to give you some account of 
the changes by which I was brought from Chestnut Lawn to 
the factory?" 

The editor adds: 

"Struggle will excuse us for calling her attention to her 
volubility — woman's reputed failing — and to the idea (also 
a woman's) that personal beauty is a necessary qualification for 
admittance to good society." 



60 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

Struggle's next letter throws the town into laughter, — 
though many squirm under her lampoon. Already the de- 
crepit town council has become the target for many a jest 
and they are resenting it — some of them quite furiously. 

"Manchester, Thursday. 

"Messers Editors, — Frankness compels the admission that 
the temper in which I now find myself is not the most aimable. 
For several days mother has been suffering with unusual pains. 
That her sickness has been induced by the condition of the house 
in which we live is to my mind perfectly clear. . . . 

"We would promptly seek another place but a wholesome 
remembrance that the frying pan is not to be lightly exchanged 
for the fire effectually restrains us. 

"Manchester's houses (my present subject) are a peculiar 
institution. Their like has never been seen before and humanity 
fathers the hope that their like may never be seen again. 

"There is a story among the neighbors here that Manchester 
was built during Noah's flood. This curious belief runs thus: 
they say that when the waters of the flood spread over the 
world many of the houses of Asia, owing to the compactness 
of their structure and the lightness of their material, were 
borne up by the swelling waters. They safely outrode the 
frightful storm and during the time were floated half round the 
earth. When the flood abated these houses were flung pell 
mell upon this hill by the receding waters. 

"Several things lead me to regard this singular story as not 
altogether without foundation. . . . 

"Let us see: Here is a residence with its end towards the 
street. . . . Out there in the lot are those celebrated brick 
rows whose dingy walls and blackened roofs bring to memory the 
"Deserted Village". What a pity Mr. Pickwick did not visit 
Manchester. . . . The Manchester homes are blissfully 
ignorant of the benefits of paint. ... An old man told 
mother last Sunday that many of the houses in Manchester had 
not been painted since the war of '76. This I suppose is true. 
. . , . We have an association here known as the 'Water 
Scoopers' whose members make fortunes in the wet season bj^ 
removing water from overflown cellars. . . . The Man- 
chester homes have also a pleasant way of leaking in bad 
weather. This is thought to be a great advantage inasmuch 
as it furnishes a new method of scouring; besides it serves to 
show the various uses to which buckets and pans can be applied. 

"Struggle." 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 61 

Two startling, but joyful, announcements appeard in the 
Dispatch of March 5th under the head of Manchester Affairs. 
Nothing like it had been seen in the Dispatch for many a day ; 
in fact it is doubtful whether just its like had ever been seen in 

that paper: 

"Manchester Affairs. 

"The Chief of Police has had the street hands very busy 
lately and has succeeded in improving wonderfully the appear- 
ance of some of the streets and is still at work. 

"To the infinite pleasure of operatives night work has been 
suspended in the Manchester cotton and woolen mills and 
with all due deference to the stockholders we trust they will 
never be lit up again, as twelve or fourteen hours' work per day 
is not only injurious to the mind and body but contrary to 
right and the progressive spirit of civilization.' 7 

Mr. Hatcher was happy but not satisfied. 

But the Spring election for Town Trustees was approaching. 
In the same issue containing the above two notices appeared 
another letter from Struggle on "The Windeaters" of Manches- 
ter, — those men who live on air, not having any visible means 
of support, men who lounge on the street corners and around 
bar rooms, getting home late at night and getting up late in 
the morning and speaking insultingly to the girls on the 
street. Struggle said these windeaters had red noses, and red 
eyes and looked as if they had been crying. Struggle then 
takes a crack at the Town Trustees by saying: 

"In olden times, as I once read, mourners were regularly 
hired to perform at funerals. Had these "eaters" prevailed 
in those days they would have been useful. As it is now I see 
a use for them. If a trustee should die there would be some red 
eyes at his burial; — provided always that the "eaters" were 
present — otherwise there would be no red eyes there". 

Struggle then proceeds to tell how these "eaters" annoy the 
ladies on the streets: 

"On Saturdays as we go homewards these agreeable gen- 
tlemen form in knots and take us in as we pass. They say the 
most agreeable and pretty compliments in our hearing. One 



62 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

will say: 'Howd'y to you my Spinning Jenny'. Another ex- 
claims in graceful tones: 'Go it beauties, supper is ready' and 
yet a third, still more refined cries: 'Make way for the cotton 
grinders.' Is not all this delicious. . . 

"Struggle." 

The Dispatch of March 8th tells of the organization in 
Manchester of a Building Fund Association which, the paper 
said, it was hoped would be a benefit not only to the stock- 
holders but to the town as well. 

The windeating loafers on the streets seemed to have 
vanished. At least Struggle in her next letter of March 17th 
says: 

"My letter about the windeaters produced consequences 
that I did not anticipate. As soon as it appeared they dis- 
appeared most mysteriously. Little brother heard a gentleman 
say that a special train loaded with these gentlemen left on the 
Danville road last week for the South. 

"This must be true. ... A young man was seen on last 
Wednesday to walk down Main Street with a card pinned on 
his coat tail bearing conspiciously the inscription "A Wind- 
eater." Little brother happened to be at the depot when his 
attention was called to it. The language which he used when 
he discovered the card was so shockingly profane that my 
virtuous young relative declined wisely to repeat it. He stated 
distinctly that he was no windeater. . . ." 

Struggle closed this letter with the surprising announcement 
that she would 'attend the concert at the Methodist church 
on the next Friday night and would give a report of it. She 
was true to her word. She went and in her letter of March 24th 
she gave a recital of the proceedings that was humorous in the 
extreme. Struggle thought that the Methodist church building 
showed signs of neglect and failed in its appearance to add to 
the good looks of the town and so she proceeded to ease her 
mind. Only a part of her spicy letter can here be given: 

"Manchester, Monday night. 
"A boy remarked in the factory some weeks ago that the 
singing class at the Methodist church had sung the roof off the 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 63 

house. . . At the time I supposed that he only meant to 
be witty at the expense of the truth. My knowledge of 
acoustics forbade my lending the smallest credit to the assertion. 
Now, since I attended the concert on Friday night, I am ready 
to believe that the boy told the truth, — partially at least. 

"The wall of the church was horribly defaced hy water which 
had evidently found an inlet through the roof. My opinion is 
that during the rehearsal of the class on some occasion of un- 
wonted inspiration the room became so charged with melody 
that the roof was rent. If such be the fact it furnishes a most 
affecting illustration of the power of music. . . . Nor 
need we longer doubt the familiar assertion that music hath 
charms to soothe the savage, split a roof and, — summarily 
demolish a cabbage. . . . 

"As the class sang the roof off, it seems simple justice to require 
them to sing it on again. This they can easily do. While they are 
in the roofing business it would be well to extend their labors to 
the church at which I heard the temperance speech. That also 
is in a leaky condition as indeed is every other house in this 
highly civilized town." 

"What will this reckless Struggle attack next?" wondered 
the people. A critic seemed to be at large in the town and 
nobody knew where the lightning would strike next. 

"Dispatch, March 26th. (Communicated) 

". . . The leaky conditions of the churches will probably 

remain as they have been until the next concert. Then we 

promise Struggle a dozen tickets. . . ." 

"Dispatch, March 30th. Manchester Items. 

"The Streets, — The streets and by-ways of Manchester are 
now in very good condition. Mill Street has been well paved 
and a great many other improvements are being carried on. 

"By order of the sheriff the election for trustees of Manchester 
as announced will take place on Monday April 23rd. Let our 
people take notice and be well prepared to vote discreetly and 
wisely for men who will labor for the advancement' of Man- 
chester and the welfare of its whole people. 

"The Election of Trustees, In view of the near ap- 
proach of the election for Trustees every man is advised to pay 
his town taxes. The amount is small and the right to vote may 
be questioned when they are not paid. . . . There is some 



64 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

talk of a large importation of outside voters but we believe that 
if the men of Manchester will only be true to themselves and to 
each other they can cany the town in spite of all outside in- 
fluences. " 

The fight is on and Mr. Hatcher's ardent hope is that a new 
and progressive Board of Trustees will be elected. 

"Dispatch, April 14th. Manchester Items. 

Condition of the Town, — Our worthy Chief of Police and 
his assistants have been very industrious lately and have put 
the town generally in good order. We trust they will relax 
no effort to place the town in a cleanly condition. . . . 

"Dispatch, April 16th. Manchester Items. 

• Let no one who has the interest of this town at heart fail to 
pay his taxes and secure himself the right to suffrage in the 
approaching election for Trustees, — an election fraught with 
matters of more interest than any that has occured for many 
years. 

"Richmond Times, April 16th. From Manchester Reporter. 

We are pleased to note that the town Hall has been greatly 
improved, whitewashed and painted and now presents quite 
a creditable appearance. 

Some one in this issue of the Times, in order to perpetrate a 
joke on Struggle, published a notice of her death and thus wrote 
her obituary calling her Angelina Seraphina Struggle. 

Mr. Hatcher received at about this time a call to the pastorate 
of the Franklin Square Church of Baltimore, a much larger 
and more attractive field than his own, but Manchester's claims 
upon him at that time seemed to him imperious and he de- 
clined the call. 

Struggle saw the notice of her demise and in her letter in 
the Dispatch of April 23rd she said: 

"I see no wit in the obituary. . . . There is one comfort 
left me. I have lived to read my own obituary and, paradoxical 
as it may seem, to enjoy the benefits of a posthumous fame." 

The day of destiny for Manchester has arrived. It is 
Monday April 23rd. — Election Day. The people of the town 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 65 

are to choose their Board of Trustees and there is a sharp 
contest between the old officials and a reform ticket. 

On the next day the Dispatch contained the following 
announcement : 

"Election in Manchester,— The annual election for a 
Board of Trustees took place in Manchester yesterday and 
resulted in the success of the reform ticket." 

There was music in that announcement for Struggle. The 
earthquake had come and a new regime was the result. 

The first meeting of the new Board marked an epoch in the 
life of the town as it held its session in public and passed resolu- 
tions looking to many improvements, such as the establish- 
ment of a Market House, one or two Free Schools, a Board of 
Health, etc. Struggle knew that the battle was not yet over. 
She had her eye on those new officials and they were aware of it. 

In her letter of April 30th she tells the story of the death of 
the old Board of Trustees whose terms of office had ended at 
midnight on Monday night. 

"Thursday night. 

"Manchester is in tears. A great sorrow lies upon the public 
heart. For some time it has been whispered that the health 
of our Board of Trustees was failing. . . . 

"During last week a decided change for the worse was ob- 
servable in the condition of the Board. Accordingly a celebrated 
physician Dr. "In no cence" was engaged to undertake the case. 
He recommended a heavy close of filed iron (ch) to be given 
with the greatest dispatch. 

"At eight o'clock it was whispered about that the Board was 
dying. No language can picture the sensation produced by this 
announcement. The very sky wrapped its face in storm. The 
thunders rattled and rolled as if Jupiter was hastily evacuating 
Mount Olympus. The winds as if furloughed by Aeolus sighed 
and whistled in the strangest manner. The lightning, taking 
advantage of the suspension of municipal rule, pounced relent- 
lessly upon a surburban stable and utterly destroyed it. The 
streets ran wild with water and woe. . . . Everything 
joined to echo a thousand times the mournful story: 'The in- 
visible fathers are dying.' 



66 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

"Just as the sun after stealing a sly peep from behind the 
lofty bank of a cloud was dipping his golden footsteps in the 
mystic seas of the West the tidings sad and painful went out: 
'The Board has breathed its last.' Oh; grief. . . . 

"The committee very properly decided that the body should 
lie in state at the Town Hall during Tuesday. While there 
several relatives and friends came and took leave of the pre- 
cious remains. 

"The hour fittingly chosen for the burial was midnight. . . 
The body was silently placed in a certain cart very dear to the 
Board in its life time and the procession, thus formed, slowly 
moved away. Just then the moon passed behind a cloud. The 
police and various other appurtenances wept aloud, the com- 
mittee of seven joined hands and the clock struck twelve. . . 

The services were then beautifully closed by a band of min- 
strels that chanted that original, appropriate dirge: 'Rest in 
peace and sin no more.'" 

"Dispatch, May 10th. Manchester Affairs. 

"We believe that it is in contemplation to raise the taxes; 
but no one can object when they know it is to be expended in 
improving and beautifying our little town which, however 
homely, is the garden spot of the world to us. 

Struggle now turns her attention to the new Board and gives 
them a portion of her mind, suggesting lines of improvements 
for them to adopt. In beginning her letter she can not resist 
the temptation to take a dig at the old Board of Trustees, even 
while it is in its grave. 

"Manchester, Monday night. 

"Happily for the cause of civilization our old Board of 
Trustees has gone to the grave. In reviewing its official course 
it is a peculiar comfort that we are entirely free from all dis- 
agreeable debts of gratitude and will not be burdened in the 
least with the memory of its virtues. . . . 

"The new Board, wreathed with the chaplets of popular favor 
and with the banner of reform waving above it, is now upon the 
stage. . . . It is to be hoped that they are not so unduly 
elated by their recent honors as to be unable to listen to sound 
advice." 



STRUGGLE LETTERS 67 

Struggle then proceeds to set forth her ideas. She protests 
against the professional gamblers that infest the place and also 
the drinking shops. In urging that a certain nuisance be re- 
moved she says: 

"I allude to a certain soap factory which stands in one of the 
most thickly populated sections of our beautiful town. I 
declare that I have sometimes been ready in passing it to 
reproach nature for bestowing upon me the common gift of an 
olfactory nerve. I am told that persons residing in the neigh- 
borhood of that factory have intensely Roman noses purely 
as a result of holding them so much. Oh, gentlemen of the 
Board, help. ... I appeal to your common scents to 
decide whether it ought not to be done." 

She published two other letters, — one on May 25th on the 
experiences of a poor girl in her efforts to dress properly, and one 
on June 2nd on "Gamblers in Manchester." 

"Dispatch, June 20th. Manchester Affairs, 

"From being a place of no note, Manchester has lately as- 
sumed a position of some little magnititude among the towns 
of our mother state. / 

The reporter for the Richmond Times attacked Struggle 
and in her letter of July she replied in spicy and witty fashion. 

In her letter of July 28th she takes the city of Richmond in 
hand, criticizing her for her proud and scornful manner towards 
Manchester. "Richmond . . . reminds me of a girl who, 
poorly raised, by a stroke of good fortune becomes the petted 
wife of some rich and stupid old bachelor. She decks herself 
in all the extremes of fashionable folly, assumes lofty flaunting 
airs and hastens to forget the humility of her origin." 

Thus Struggle opens fire upon her vain neighbor across the 
James. 

Even yet Struggle is not satisfied. Her next letter begins by 
saying: 

"Manchester reminds me of a young dwarf with a broken 
back and a grey head." 



68 STRUGGLE LETTERS 

She then proceeds to mention certain defects in the people 
of the town; — certain respects in which they fall far below 
the mark. She says they lack enterprise; that only a small 
portion of the children are being educated and very few of its 
young men aspiring to professional life and thus she goes on 
in the hope of shaming them out of their sloth and inflaming 
them with new ambitions. 

The letters worked a revolution. The town became dis- 
satisfied with itself and began to brush its straggling locks 
and to deck itself in clean and attractive attire. It had indeed 
caught a fresh ambition and entered upon a new career. 



In a revival meeting during the Summer at the Hopeful 
Church in Louisa County Mr. Hatcher showed his gift for 
touching the vital spot in men and in this case the results 
were unspeakably rich. In the meetings at the country church 
there was a very bright young man who had refused to be a 
christian. Mr. Hatcher walked to him in the church one day, 
leaned over to him and in a brief conversation said, "I believe 
that the reason you will not become a christian is because 
you are afraid you will have to preach." The young man 
almost collapsed under the thrust and admitted the truth of 
the charge. Mr. Hatcher, seeing that only heroic treatment 
would meet the case, put the two following alternatives before 
the recalcitrant young man. He asked him to read upon his 
knees that night at his home the 51st Psalm and then on the 
spot either decide for Christ or else write in his Bible "Resolved 
that I will never, never become a christian" and then throw 
his Bible in the fire. The youth accepted the challenge. On 
the next day he came out and made his public confession of 
Christ and a few weeks later Mr. Hatcher heard an early 
knock at day break at his Manchester door and there stood 
this same young man, who said: "I came to tell you good by; 
I am on my way to the Theological Seminary at Greenville 
to study for the ministry," 



CALL TO BALTIMORE 69 

But this was only the first chapter in a story that had many 
happy sequels some of which will be told later. 

It is interesting to note how quickly Mr. Hatcher adjusted 
himself to the new situation created by the victory of the North 
over the South. He emptied his heart at once of its enmities 
against the North, classed himself as an American and held 
himself ready to give a brother's grasp to any one from the other 
side who entertained a similar fraternal feeling. Some one writes 
that soon after the war Mr. Hatcher "went to Philadelphia 
and entering a building where a group of ministers were con- 
versing he advanced with outstretched arm and open palm 
saying: 'The war is over — now lets shake hands.' " 

He had drunk the bitter dregs of defeat — as his Southern 
brethren had done — and the experience nearly killed him; 
but his face was now towards the future and he embraced 
every opportunity that came to him for rebinding once more 
the two torn and bleeding sections. 

A second call from the Franklin Square Church of Baltimore 
was successful and in its issue of Feb. 7th the Religious Herald 
of Richmond contained the following: 

"Rev. Wm. E. Hatcher on last Sunday resigned the pastoral 
care of the Baptist Church in Manchester, having accepted a 
call from the Franklin Square Baptist Church Baltimore. We 
congratulate our Maryland friends believing that brother 
Hatcher will be a power among them as he has been for some 
years among us." 



CHAPTER VII 

BALTIMORE PASTORATE. LECTURE ON THE DANCE 

1867-1868 

It was a hazardous step which this young preacher was 
taking in uprooting himself from his native state where he 
was gaining such a good foothold and transplanting himself 
in another state whose religious conditions were vastly dif- 
ferent from those which he was leaving in Virginia. He had, 
however, lived a life of stress and turmoil in Manchester. His 
members, with a few exceptions, trod the humbler walks of 
life, many of them working in the factories. In Baltimore 
he found a membership in which there was both wealth and 
culture, and many royal homes into which he delighted to go. 
In the size of membership, the prominence of the church and 
the social privileges afforded, the Baltimore pastorate was 
much superior to the pastorate which he had left; but on the 
other hand, Baltimore was a Catholic stronghold, the Franklin 
Square church was badly located and the church itself had 
been sorely shaken and torn by issues connected with the 
Civil War. Besides, the Baptists were one of the weakest 
denominations in the city; but in spite of unfavorable con- 
ditions he plunged enthusiastically into his new work and 
was very happy in it. Virginia seemed to have retained a 
part interest in his services, however, and was frequently calling 
him back for some form of ministerial service. The Warrenton 
Church claimed him for revival meetings where he found a 
new friend, Rev. H. H. Wyer, another one of those noble, 
kindred spirits to whom his soul became knit in an unbroken 

friendship. 

70 



BALTIMORE PASTORATE 71 

He brought with him from Manchester a bright attractive 
boy, Harvey Nunnally, who lived in his home in Baltimore. 

During the Summer Rev. George B. Taylor, his soul's 
beloved, paid him a visit of several days and he tells of two 
of their indulgences. One day they made a mutual agreement 
that each would criticize the other; that they would first 
take time for reflection and then fire off their indictments. 

"It fell to my lot" writes Mr. Hatcher "to begin 'the butch- 
ery/ and I raked up everything that I could think of against 
him and bore down upon him with unsparing candor, though 
to my loving eyes he was full of nobleness. He took my 
criticisms in excellent part and charged me with not doing him 
justice — not by reason of my severity, but on account of my 
'weak-eyed partiality/ When his turn came to dissect me he 
ignobly fled from his task. The strife for once threatened to 
grow sharp between us as I charged him with not doing me 
fairly. He laughed a most disarming laugh and said he was 
color-blind, in part at least, and could not see the faults of 
friends. 

"Dr. Taylor suffered much from vocal weakness, or rather 
from speaking in a higher key than nature designed should 
be used. My partial study of voice-culture enabled me to 
make him aware of his mistake. His eagerness to correct 
the error was most interesting and was in line with his vital 
passion to do his best in everything. We spent many hours 
in making the correction effective in his case and by his patience 
he achieved a really unusual victory and he wrote a remarkable 
article in the public press in which it was made clear that he 
had studied the matter to the bottom and had won by using 
his ample information." 

He had been warned before coming to Baltimore to beware 
of the great and colossal Dr. Richard Fuller, pastor of the 
Seventh Church, who was said to be not only inaccessible to 
young preachers but often cold and unsympathetic towards 
them. To one of these doleful counselors he bluntly replied: 
"Well I do not expect to sleep with Dr. Fuller and I shall not 



72 LECTURE ON THE DANCE 

expect anything of him that he does not choose to do for me." 
He also added that he felt himself a young colt with no desire 
"to be yoked with the great American lion of America." But 
he had many pleasant experiences with the old Doctor. There 
was nothing so interesting to him as a human being and when 
the particular human was such a king among men as Dr. 
Fuller he fairly reveled in the contact. He tells of a visit that 
the Doctor paid him soon after coming to Baltimore, — a 
visit which, he says "had in it so much of a man and was so 
courtly, so delicate, so free from patronage and so rich in 
brotherly cheer that I could have gone out on the hills and 
shouted all by myself." 

It was at this time that he prepared a lecture which at- 
tained sudden and wide popularity, — a lecture which traveled 
up and down Virginia for several years. Many were the 
church debts that it helped to pay: many, the women's so- 
cieties and missionary bands whose treasury it helped to 
swell. The subject of the lecture was: "The Advantages of 
the Modern Dance" and its treatment showed humor, wit 
and satire. 

Dr. J. C. Hiden, probably one of the ablest literary critics 
among the Baptists in that day writes: 

"If anybody in Portsmouth did not hear Rev. Wm. E. 
Hatcher's lecture in the Court Street Baptist church recently 
then he missed a specimen of genuine satire. We have seen 
very little true satire in this country; and all imitations or af- 
fectations of it are especially disagreeable. But we must confess 
that the satire which we enjoyed on that occasion is very much 
to our taste. It differed essentially from Juvenal's fierce in- 
vective in which we can not see much satire; and from the mis- 
anthropic spleen of Swift which makes us sorry for the satirist 
who has worked himself up into such a rage. It is such a picture 
of the extravagances, the caprices, the somersaults, the airs 
and the graces of would be fashionable dancers as must attract 
attention wherever delivered. It is worth a whole volume 
of sermons against worldly amusements and we think is more 
effective than all the sermons against dancing that we have ever 
heard with all the tracts, essays and newspaper articles thrown 
in so as to make weight. 



LECTURE ON THE DANCE 73 

"The audience was the largest that we have seen here on any 
similar occasion and was entertained from beginning to end." 

His lecture, in waging war against the modern dance, sur- 
prised the audience by its mode of attack. It declared that 
the advantages of the dance accrued to the Doctors — in the 
ailments that it produced in its victims; to the Merchants — in 
the lavish expenditures of attire and eatables which it neces- 
sitated; and to all lovers of democracy by the breaking down 
of all social distinctions and the jumbling together on a level 
of all the dancers. He began by saying: 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, — So far as I know I am the first 
man to venture upon an American platform as the friend and 
champion of the Dance. . . ." 

After speaking of the opposition raised against the indulgence 
he continues: 

"The pulpit has hurled its solemn anathemas against it. 
Churches have deliberated, resolved and legislated and some- 
times have seized the nimble footed lovers of the Dance and 
compelled them to execute the celebrated back step movement 
by which they were shuffled from the visible church into the 
populous country of the heathen and the publican. 

"Hard hearted fathers, fastidious mothers and dyspeptic 
guardians have, in at least a million of cases, resorted to threats, 
bribes, bolts and bars to preserve these giddy responsibilities 
from its supposed contaminations. Books, magazines and 
papers have poured forth flood-like over the earth for the express 
purpose of showing the abstract sinfulness of shaking one's 
feet. 

"Against this array of leagued opposition I do most boldly 
and defiantly set my face. I mean that the Goddess of the 
Dance, so long the victim of oppression and injustice, shall 
find in me a deliverer. . . .." 

After painting the difference between "the Dance" and 
"Dancing," he mentions the things that every Dance must 
have: 



74 LECTURE ON THE DANCE 

"First it must have a place. 

"Second, it must have a time. It is sufficient for me to say 
that its chosen, if not its only time, is night, and that, with 
greatest possible modesty, it asks for all night or at least as 
much of it as remains after the performance begins. 

"Third, it must have Music. . . . Anything from a 
first-class Band to a dilapidated banjo will be acceptable. Can- 
dor, however, compels me to say that of all instruments respected 
in the romping kingdom of the Dance, Jack Dowdy's fiddle is 
the favorite. Its first premonitory creak ravishes every ear and 
quickens every tongue and starts every toe. 

"Fourth, the Dance must have men and women. . . . 

"I submit as my first proposition in favor of the Dance 
that it is highly beneficial to the medical profession." 

He then declares that doctors, — whom he calls administra- 
tors of "castor oil, ipecac and calomel" — must have a living, 
that their expenses are heavy and they mast therefore have 
money, their business must in some way be stimulated and 
he thus proceeds to tell how it can be done. 

"Gather up all the young people; let the young men cram 
themselves into tight boots and tight pants and tight collars — 
and to make the picture true to nature — let them be tight gen- 
erally; let the girls dress themselves as tightly and as lightly and 
as slightly as possible; send for the indispensable Mr. Dowdy 
and require them to begin at eight o'clock and skip, hop, whirl 
and leap all night long, — except one hour at midnight which 
is to be employed in crowding their delicate little stomachs 
with such delicious poisons as frozen lemonade, French candy 
and fruit cake. Let the dance occur in a room that is close and 
hot. Dismiss the party just in time for them to come in contact 
with the damp chill air of the early morning in returning home. 

"This plan acts like magic. Its results are not always rapid 
but inevitable. Sure as the night was made for sleep; sure as 
over exertion is more injurious in the night than in the day, 
sure as raw air is fatal to a relaxed system, so sure will these 
nocturnal revelries make work for the doctor. His harvest 
may not come in a day, but come it will in the Neuralgia, Bron- 
chitis, Rheumatism, Dyspepsia, Catarrah, Pneumonia and 
Consumption of the dancer. 

"I announce as my second proposition that the dance is 
the patron of Commerce. 



LECTURE ON THE DANCE 75 

In speaking of the preparations of dress for the dance he 

says: 

'The young men must have their white vests, cropped- 
tailed coats, fancy pants, new gloves, plastic boots or requisite 
slippers. Their moustaches must be trimmed, rubbed, dyed 
and twisted and their hair must be shampooned, cut and split 
open behind. The old bachelor, or widower, must be taken 
through the identical process with the addition of dye for the 
hair and sometimes dead hair for the head, perfume for the 
breath, braces for the shoulder and cotton for the toes." 

He passes next to the attire and adornments of the young 
ladies, — but the above will give an idea of the plan and style 
of the lecture which closes with the following: 

"If, however, you desire a sound body, a full purse, select, safe 
and refined associations, a politeness which springs from modesty 
and intelligence and a piety undwarfed by the foul air of 
doubtful endulgence then I do say with kindly but mightiest 
emphasis that you must never, never, never dance." 

"What a time we had that night" writes Rev. S. M. Provence 
who heard the lecture at the First Church Richmond in 1867. 
"From that time I have heard you whenever I could." 

He delivered the lecture in Richmond in 1868 and a secular 
paper of Feb. 6th, 1868, after describing it as a "perfect kaleido- 
scope of wit and humor, satire and sarcasm, interwoven with 
graphic and life-like portraitures," added "The proceeds of 
the lecture here were devoted to the ministerial students of 
Richmond College and to the Dorcas Society of the Leigh 
Street Church." 

He discovered that he had left a large part of his heart in 
Virginia when one day his door bell rang and a committee from 
the First Church of Petersburg, Virginia were ushered in and 
sought to capture him for their church. He thus describes his 
feelings upon the occasion: 

"A Virginian is a stark fool to everybody except to Vir- 
ginians. Other people may feel as they please but only a Vir- 



76 CALL TO PETERSBURG 

ginian knows how a Virginian feels.. I had fooled myself to 
death in believing that I was happy out of Virginia but the 
spirit of about twelve generations of Virginians lay sullen and 
restless within me. It gave me time to enjoy my delusions for 
a season but when the gateway of the Old Doninion flew open 
and I saw the track clear and straight before me I felt that 
the millennium was at hand. All this may sound like idiotic 
prattle to an outsider but let him rave. He doesn't understand 
it at all." 

In a short while the tidings went forth that the Franklin 
Square pastor had accepted the Petersburg call. 

He says "I walked the mountain heights of rapture." Not 
that his Baltimore pastorate had' not brought him rich joys, 
nor that his work had not been amply rewarded, but Virginia 
was the place where he was to work out his destiny and the 
fact seemed to break like a revelation upon him. What he 
wrote about Dr. Jeter seems to apply equally well to himself: 

"An invisible hand guides our steps, call it what we will 
There is a subtle force which dominates our life and determines 
our course. It is stronger than our caprices and mightier than 
our purposes. It shifts us from our chosen track and thrusts 
us into situations of which in advance we could never have 
dreamed. 

He had at this time two children, — Eldridge, his first born, 
who was nearly three years old and his daughter, May, who 
was a few months old. 

"My life was very happy in Baltimore" writes his wife. 
"It was a beautiful city and choice friendships were formed 
there which it hurt me grievously to sever. I was coming to 
love it more and more." 

Some one, writing regarding his Commencement address, 
during this Summer, at the Roanoke Female Institute in 
Virginia, said "Dr. W. E. Hatcher, gave the piece de resistance 
of the bill of fare — unique, picturesque, humorous, impressive. 
But you know him." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

1868-1872 

PETERSBURG. PERSISTENT DRILL IN SERMON MAKING AND IN 
LITERARY COMPOSITION. INTEREST IN BOYS. 

In going from Baltimore to Petersburg he went from a city 
of over 200,000 to a city of less than 20,000. Petersburg, about 
20 miles from Richmond, was a quiet, conservative city, but 
filled with choice people and delightful homes, the First Baptist 
church having in it some of the finest families of the 
city. 

From the beginning his heart was set upon having a great re- 
vival for his church, and in the Spring his efforts bore fruit 
in a rich revival. For eight or nine weeks the meetings con- 
tinued, services being held every night, he himself doing the 
preaching. The entire city was stirred, many of the stores 
being closed during the afternoon services. 

"On Sunday/' says a writer in the Herald of June 3rd, "I 
witnessed the most important scene that has ever taken place in 
the First Baptist Church of this city [Petersburg]. Sixty three 
were given the right hand of fellowship and the attendance 
at the Communion was the largest ever witnessed in this 
city." 

At this time his soul flamed with an ambition to make 
great sermons and he went into special training. It was in 
Petersburg that he formed his sermonic and literary style. 

His study was up in the tall tower of the church. How grim 
and dark it looked to me at nights! With its tortuous, un- 
lighted stairway and its gloomy heights it was, to my boyish 
imagination, the place where the booger men and assassins 

77 



78 FORMING LITERARY HABITS 

were lurking in the shadows to pounce upon my Papa as he 
came down those many winding steps from his study and out 
into the open air so very late at night. My only thought 
about the study was: "How brave is my Papa to go up there 
every night by himself." But I did not understand. It was 
there that he was forging his homiletical habits and drilling 
his pen for its future tasks. 

"How I would hate" said his wife "to see him get up from 
supper table every night to go to his study, there to stay until 
nearly midnight and leave me so lonely at home and yet I 
knew it was for the best and I did not complain." 

Let it be remembered that he came to wield a pen which 
Dr. F. C. McConnell said "charmed and instructed the whole 
world. . . . That facile pen, trenchant as pleasing, shall 
never be equalled, certainly within many generations" and 
Dr. John Clifford of London, who is very probably the leading 
Baptist minister in Europe, told an American visitor in London 
that he read everything he saw from the pen of "W. E. H." 
Scores and probably hundreds told William E. Hatcher the 
same thing. 

"Of all those arts in which the wise excel, 
Nature's chief masterpiece is writing well." 

His method of work was frequent rewritings of sermons and 
addresses. He said that he wrote one address over twenty 
times. It was this ceaseless, remorseless tugging at his sen- 
tences and paragraphs that gave him his final mastery over 
his pen. In composing his sentences he would seem to chal- 
lenge every word. All that troup of infirm, worn-out words 
and phrases that wait at the door of every writer and do ser- 
vice on all occasions he had no welcome for. He simply 
would not use them, unless he found that there were no better 
ones to be had. He would hold the truth glowing before his 
mind while he rapidly searched right and left, high and low, 
for just that word or group of words that would best flash forth 
the truth before the reader. And then after he had put the 




MRS. WILLIAM E. HATCHER 



FORMING LITERARY HABITS 79 

truth on paper, he would still prune and reshape its sen- 
tences. 

It is reported that Cicero studied hard and labored to "bring 
his sentences to the highest polish" always insisting upon the 
opportunity for ample preparation before he delivered a public 
discourse. He found himself however engaged to deliver an 
address before the Assembly on a certain occasion and the 
hour for the address drew near when he was far from being 
ready. At this moment one of his servants brought him the 
announcement that the meeting of the Assembly had been 
postponed for a day and he was so overjoyed at this news 
that he gave the slave his life's freedom. 

Blessed is the man who is ready when his task comes and such 
readiness is the result of grinding drill and toil in secret. 

"True ease in writing comes from art not chance 
As those move easiest who have learned to dance." 

Men differ in their methods for attaining the highest style 
in writing. "Voltaire always had lying on his table the petite 
Careme of Massillon and the tragedies of Racine — the former 
to fix his taste for prose composition and the latter for poetry." 
From the early centuries comes a gleam of counsel from Long- 
inus who says: 

"Think how Homer would have described it; how Plato 
would have imagined it and how Demosthenes would have 
expressed it. . . and you have a standard which will raise 
you up to the dignity of any thing that human genius can 
aspire to." 

We are not admitted into the literary or homiletical work- 
shop of the Petersburg pastor and yet he does drop some hints 
as to his methods. 

"A noble thought" says he "may sicken for lack of vigorous 
expression. Trim, polish and refine every paragraph, sharpen 
every sentence to the keenest edge and let each word bear part 
in giving body to thought." 



80 FORMING LITERARY HABITS 

He shrank from loading his sentences with useless luggage. 
He declared war against adjectives and branded them as his 
enemy. They swarmed about his pen and with fairest pro- 
mises clamored for enlistment. He had in his earlier days 
yielded to their charms but his productions had suffered ship- 
wreck at their hands. For a fresh, lustrous adjective he had high 
respect. He kept his scouts ever busy searching for such and 
when found they met a bounding welcome. 

"We admire adjectives" he writes "They are the fringes and 
ruffles on the vesture of thought, — somewhat useful and greatly 
ornamental. Young mothers have been known to smother 
their babies with a profusion of dress; but even that is not so 
distressing as the sight of a youthful genius crushing his 
ideas beneath a mountain of comparatives and superlatives." 

It was this daily drill which not only gave him his literary 
style but which enabled him, in the long stretch of his later 
life, to compose with such ease on the platform or in the pulpit. 

A gifted woman writes : 

"Dr. Hatcher possessed a wonderful vocabulary. I always 
devoured everything he wrote. Sometimes I said: 'He must 
have an edition cle luxe of Webster Unabridged'. No one knew 
better than he how to couple words which Oliver Wendell 
Holmes said 'had loved each other from the cradle upwards.' " 

The Herald of that day says: 

"Brother Hatcher of the First Baptist Church Petersburg 
teaches a Bible class of twenty five men in the Sunday School 
and also has charge of a class in an afternoon mission school. 
He meets a class of one hundred once a week to whom he gives 
instruction in vocal music." After leaving Petersburg he 
never taught in the Sunday School. 

Two weeks later this paper stated "The First Baptist Church 
of Petersburg, Va. . . pays the pastor $1,800 and is pro- 
posing to increase it to $2,000. The salary is paid quarterly 
in advance." 



"THE MURDERESS AND HER DAUGHTER"81 

I find among his papers the manuscript of a sermon ap- 
parently prepared at about this time. It shows the usual 
marks of care in preparation; the sheets are stitched to- 
gether. The sermon is entitled "The Murderess and her 
daughter" and thus begins: 

"The chronicles of the world can show no blacker page than 
that which contains the history of the Herods. Their name is 
rank with infamy." 

He thus describes the entrance and the dance of Salome: 

"But Hush; 'Stand back' the entering herald cries. 'Stand 
back' he cries yet louder, for the party, flushed with wine and 
mad with revelry, are slow to hear. 'Stand back', he shouts in 
tones of thunder 'and let the Princess of beauty do honor to 
our king.' 

"Wide open, as by magic, springs the door amid strains of 
music and, like a fairy queen, bounds forward the elastic and fas- 
cinating dancer, Salome. She trips — she glides — she spins — she 
circles — she whirls — she leaps — she swims. A thing of un- 
earthly beauty glittering, flashing and enchanting she floats 
about the royal parlor, now here, now there, now yonder — 
everywhere, although her task performed she droops in charm- 
ing weariness at the feet of Herod to catch his admiration and 
rewards. 

"Her request is granted." 

The sermon closes with the description of the bloody climax. 

His next door neighbor was a family whose members belonged 
to his church. He had recently told them a ghost story of some 
medical students in the darkness of the night stealing from a 
grave yard the body of a big negro. He told how they brought 
the dead body secretly to the Medical college, lugged it to the 
cellar door and with a long and careful swing hurled it through 
the door and over into the darkness and depths of the cellar 
and to their horror, as the big body struck the bottom of the 
cellar, it gave a loud and sudden groan. That groan was the 
shock and climax of the story. 



82 THE WEIRD STORY 

One Sunday night during the summer he was sitting on 
his porch after returning from church. In a little while he 
became aware that the high porch of his next door neighbor 
was filled with people and that one of the ladies of the family 
was telling the above mentioned ghost story. She was taking 
her time and was describing minutely the decision of the 
students to go out some night in search of a body. He 
knew what was coming. He slipped to the back of his house 
and came quietly around under the high porch of his neighbor 
where he crouched and listened. The lady was forging ahead 
with the story and was standing and gesticulating to make 
her narrative more vivid. She came near the climax as she 
said: "the young men came to the cellar door with the big black 
body and they began to swing the body so as to give it a mo- 
mentum and they swung it out and down into the darkness 
and when the body struck the ground the body said" — and just 
as she reached that point and before she could utter the next 
word, Mr. Hatcher under the porch gave forth a most pro- 
digious and dismal groan that fairly woke the echoes on the 

porch. Miss dropped in their midst, as if struck down 

by the ghost himself, and terror took full charge of the situation. 

In the meantime, Mr. Hatcher, barely able to smother the 
storm of laughter that was threatening him, managed to get 
himself quickly away and a few minutes later down the street 
from the direction of his church he came whistling a tune and 
looking the picture of innocence. 

"Oh, Mr. Hatcher" they cried from the porch "Come here 
quick" and he hastened to the front gate whither they all 
rushed from the porch. "Oh Mr. Hatcher let me tell you" they 
began, several talking at once and immediately they proceeded 
to lay before him in all its ghastliness their experience of the 
last few minutes, to all of which their pastor listened with the 
most childlike interest." 

Whether he dispelled their illusion that night, or on the 
morrow, my recollection breaks down at this point and the 
reader must put his imagination on duty for the rest. But 



GIVING A BOY A TRIP 83 

I do know he had rollicking times with them afterwards when 

he would request Miss to tell him the story about 

that midnight haul from the graveyard." 

To have seen him at his best during these days one should 
have caught him on a trip with a boy. One day, for example, 
he rang the door bell of one of his members and called out to 
the mother: "Tell Charley to have his valise packed and him- 
self ready at the 7 :30 train Tuesday morning if he wants to go 
with me to the Portsmouth Association for a three day's 
trip." The mother's eyes as well as lips, gave forth her glad 
response as, after a few other words, Dr. Hatcher hurried away. 
Great news she would have for Charley — "A trip with Dr. 
Hatcher." What talks of preparation the family had that day. 
Plain people they were and little Charles was a sprightly well 
behaved lad. But he had hardly had a bright visit anywhere 
in all his days. Other boys had told him of their trips. Of 
course he was ready on Tuesday and the father had him 
at the depot in good time. 

And such a trip it was for Charley. How fine it was to j ump on 
the train and go gliding along out of Petersburg; he was intro- 
duced to preachers on the train and nobody had ever done that 
for him before — and then the ride from the country station to 
the church and the big wide country how glorious it was — and 
it looked as if Dr. Hatcher was thinking more about him than 
he was about himself — and it seemed that nearly everybody who 
spoke to Dr. Hatcher also spoke to him — and the Association — 
well, the speeches in the church got a little tiresome and he was 
so glad that Dr. Hatcher after the service introduced him to 
seven other boys — and then the dinner on the tables in the 
yard with its chicken and ham and pies and cake — and Dr. 
Hatcher, although he was all the time shaking hands and talk- 
ing to people, yet seemed determined that the boy should have 
something of all the good things that came around as he would 
tell the women about his Petersburg boy that he had brought 
along — and that made them so kind — and after that second 



i 



84 GIVING A BOY A TRIP 

service it looked as if so many people wanted Dr. Hatcher to 
go home with them that night — and that ride from the church 
behind those fine horses — and those boys at the house where 
they went and Dr. Hatcher making him run out with them and 
have a good time and that big orchard of apples — and those 
grapes — and the fine supper and the nice room that Dr.Hatcher 
and he slept in and then, next day, the ride to the church and — 
Oh, but didn't he hate to leave it all and go back to Petersburg 
but Dr. Hatcher said he would take him again some time — 
and what times he had at home telling and telling and telling 
of his "big trip with Dr. Hatcher". 

Does any one doubt that the sparkling eyes of that boy, his 
happy talk, and comradeship put youth and bouyancy into 
the heart of Dr. Hatcher as he sought not only to give the boy 
a trip about which he could talk and dream for months to come, 
but also to drop into his heart helpful and inspiring influences? 
That boy from that day had an open mind and heart for the 
pastor. 

One day he was in a brother pastor's home when this pas- 
tor told him of the poor health of one of his little boys. "Let 
him go with me on my trip to the mountains" said Dr. Hatcher. 
He went and upon his return showed marked improvement. 
He has often spoken of the happy hours spent with Dr. Hatcher. 
He lived to fill some of the high offices in the state. He loved 
to take a boy — a lonely boy, a boy with a hard, barren life — 
and give him a gloriously happy time. 

It was during his Petersburg pastorate that he held a meet- 
ing at the Tucker Swamp church where he had an interesting 
experience with a country boy. This boy, Walter P Hines, 
now a Southern pastor, thus tells the story: 

"About two years after my conversion I heard on a Monday 
morning that Dr. Hatcher was at old Tucker Swamp church 
in a meeting. Nothing would do but that I must go to the 
meeting that very day. With my father's consent I saddled 
old Fanny, the gray mare, and went off in a swift gallop for 
the church. The hour was late and I thought if I went around 



HAPPY WITH BOYS 85 

the road I should miss the morning sermon, so I put out down 
the railroad track, it being a short cut to the church. The 
section boss, Mr. Jim Holland, saw me and manned his hand- 
car and put out after me. After a chase he overtook me and 
informed me that it was against the law to ride on the track 
and he would have to arrest me. But I left the track and took 
to the woods and made my way out to the road. When I 
returned home I went to the section boss and apologized, and 
he smiled and told me not to do that again because it was 
dangerous. 

" After a hard ride I reached the church, hitched old Fanny 
to a tree and got in the house in time to hear the text announced. 
So soon as the audience was dismissed I rushed up to Dr. 
Hatcher and he took me in his arms. I am sure I was the 
happiest boy in that church. 

"I spent three happy days with Dr. Hatcher, going to the 
home in which he was entertained at night, and then reluct- 
antly turned old Fanny's head towards home. In my young 
heart my father was first and Dr. Hatcher next. Often in my 
home Dr. Hatcher urged my father to make every sacrifice 
necessary to educate me." 

"He was always the boys' beloved companion and inspira- 
tional friend," says Dr. C. T. Herndon. "He possessed the 
power to breathe into them the purest and best manhood. No 
youth ever came in touch with Dr. Hatcher but that he was 
shown the beauty and might of pure and cultivated man- 
hood." 

One day there was a knock at his study door and a boy about 
fourteen years of age walked in. The boy in later years in 
telling about his visit says: "Dr. Hatcher wheeled around in 
his chair and took me on his knee and with his arm around me 
said: Tell me your trouble my boy!'. He got my confidence 
at once and I would have told him anything then. He bap- 
tized me on the next Sunday night". That boy's name was 
Hugh and he is today Dr. Hugh C. Smith, pastor at Bedford 
City and Clerk of the Baptist General Association of Vir- 
ginia. 

Hundreds of boys he took with him on a walk, or a ride, or 
a trip to a dedication, an Association, a lecture, or a protracted 
meeting. It was this that kept the fountains of his own life 



86 INFLUENCING BOYS 

fresh and sparkling. He caught the boy's spirit. He took 
their point of view. He felt the thrill of their radiant natures and 
refreshed his tired soul by drinking from their spontaneous life. 

He took me with him to Richmond one day and on the train 
he suggested that I sit by the window on one side of the car and 
he would sit by the window on the opposite side and that we 
would both count the houses on our respective sides to see 
which one would count the largest number of houses. A 
gentleman said to me recently: "Dr. Hatcher could be a boy 
with boys and he could be a man with men." 

He went to Caroline county to marry a couple. Among the 
visitors at that wedding was a boy who today is an honored 
Baptist minister, — Dr. Andrew Broaddus who thus writes re- 
garding himself and Dr. Hatcher: 

"It was at a wedding where music and mirth prevailed. A 
young preacher present quietly passed his arm around a timid 
boy and drawing him to his side spoke a few, tender words to 
him about his soul. The memory of those words will abide 
with me through the coming years." 

How many hundreds of such timid boys were drawn to this 
preacher's side and made to feel that there was a great heart 
interested in them and heard words that followed them through 
all the years. 

Rev. Robert H. Winfree in a published address said: "If I 
were a sculptor, and could put into granite what was the 
crowning glory of Dr. Hatcher's life I would carve in granite 
his strong and manly form holding out a helping hand to a 
struggling youth and lifting him into power and usefulness." 

He himself writes: 

"I have known boys — lovely beautiful boys — fair haired, 
bright browed, with rich joyous laughter — with love beaming 
out of their eyes — with boyish honor written on their faces — 
reared in the nursery of motherly love — trained to prayer, 
charity and virtue — full of modesty, gentleness and worldly 
excellences : 



IN WEST VIRGINIA 87 

"And, Oh sorrow! I have seen those boys fall. In temptation's 
hour they have become the victims of drunkenness, debauchery 
gaming or some other sin. What a melancholy transformation. 
A few brief years at most of sinful indulgence withered all that 
was lovely about them and changed the once innocent and 
lovely boy into a blighted, wicked, debased, foul-mouthed 
blackhearted, demonized monster." 

It was the picture of such a possible doom that drove him 
to the rescue of the young lives around him. His Petersburg 
pastorate was not marked by heavy thunder nor dazzling 
lightning, but was rather after the fashion of the quiet, 
steady stars. He was the beloved pastor of a church that was 
rich in spiritual and social gifts and in denominational ac- 
tivities. He kept his finger on every department of Sunday 
School and church work and in the city nearly every man 
was his friend. His eye swept the circle of the surrounding 
counties and their churches were frequently calling him to their 
aid for sermons, addresses, lectures or revival meetings. 

He attended the West Virginia Baptist State Association 
and while there he preached on Sunday morning. In com- 
pany with a large group of ministers he spent that night in one 
of the homes of the city where two of the ministers began an 
argument over the question as to whether animals had any 
mind or not. 

"They do have minds" said Mr. Solomon "and I can prove it. 
A friend of mine had a pet crow which, like all crows, would 
steal things and hide them away. It soon learned to watch 
and see if any one was looking before it committed a theft 
and when caught it would show in its face signs of remorse." 
Dr. Hatcher, who up to this time had said nothing remarked : 
"Brother Solomon, that is most remarkable. Does it not 
only prove that the crow has an intellectual but also a moral 
nature, — -a conscience and that he is a sinner and ought to 
have the gospel preached to him." At that Mr. Solomon flew 
into a rage and said: "I did not mean to turn this discussion 
into ridicule" "Oh, No" replied Dr. Hatcher "Neither did I. 



88 THE CROW AND THE DOG STORIES 

Let me tell you of a very religious dog which a friend of mine 
owned. This dog was a regular attendant at church and seemed 
to enjoy religious services very much. There was an old 
deacon in that church, however, who had no sympathy with 
the canine species and turned the devout dog out. One morn- 
ing, this dog, which had been driven from the sanctuary, 
sat on the door steps looking into the church most wistfully 
showing evident signs of religious persecution in its face; but 
he kept one eye on the deacon and one eye on his master 
until the deacon became absorbed in the sermon and then he 
slipped in quietly and sat down by his master and enjoyed 
the worship. At the close of the sermon the pastor called on 
the deacon to pray and the dog jumped up and indignantly 
walked out." 



CHAPTER IX 

1872-1875 

the memorial movement. the ambulance corps. uncle 
santa's visit, the boys' meeting. 

In 1872 the Virginia Baptists inaugurated a memorable 
movement. Their College at Richmond had been almost 
wrecked by the war and it was decided to wage a campaign 
through the state for raising $100,000 — a vast sum in those 
days — for the relief of the College. Dr. Hatcher sprang into 
the undertaking with the fire and dash of a school boy, and 
went from point to point through the state. "It was one of 
the most electric and resistless movements that the eyes of 
Virginia Baptists had ever seen," he writes. "Dr. J. L. Bur- 
rows, one of our imperial chieftains, was put at the head of the 
forces and with boundless energy and never wavering courage 
he led us. . . .We of the pastorate and some of the spell 
binders of the pew got up mighty speeches and we fairly shook 
the state." His church gave him to the memorial campaign 
from November until the following June, Sundays excepted. 
"Dr. Hatcher of Petersburg" said a secular paper "poured 
forth one solemn storm of eloquence at the Portsmouth Asso- 
ciation." In his swing around the state he encountered varied 
experiences. One of them not only had its amusing side, but 
it showed his skill in handling an obdurate old citizen who 
was in his audience: 

"I was engaged to present the college matter to a prominent 
country church in Tidewater Virginia. News came that a cer- 
tain brother, usually most friendly with me, was nursing a 
well-articulated grudge against the college and might take it 



90 THE MEMORIAL CAMPAIGN 

out on me when I came for the collection. When I alighted 
at the front of the church I saw this brother standing apart, 
gloom and battle clouding his visage. I went out of my way 
to greet him and got the chill of the graveyard as my reward. 
I almost felt the point of his rapier in my flesh, but I had 
business ahead, and went on into the church. He entered the 
house also, and by every step and attitude proclaimed himself a 
wofully abused and wretched man. He took his seat near 
the pulpit and maliciously turned his back on me. I saw 
pain in the face of the saints and a wanton grin among the 
Gentiles. My address that morning touched Baptist history 
and doctrine. It was full of interest to the great bulk of Bap- 
tist people present. My irate brother, who had turned his 
back to me, faced the congregation and could see that his 
feeling was not shared by others. He was quite a pronounced 
Baptist, and now and then some strain of my talk would stir 
him and he would peep around without thinking. Others 
marked it and smiled, and then he would draw back and re- 
sume his defiant air. It went on as an odd by-play until I 
threw out some fragment of truth quite agreeable to him. He 
listened eagerly and, glancing around, saw several brethren 
in tears. Instantly he broke into weeping and suddenly wheel- 
ing about, he faced me the rest of the time and looked as if 
newly converted, as I verily believe he was. The atmospheric 
sentiment of the congregation dissolved his antagonisms and 
brought him in. At the close of the sermon he gave a handsome 
offering for the college fund. Moreover, he went to the great 
memorial meeting in 1873 in Richmond as a delegate, and the 
following September entered his son in Richmond College as a 
student. There was a conquering and assimilating spirit in 
that glorious campaign." 

An imperial service was held at the College in connection 
with the campaign. It was called the Memorial Service in 
memory of the heroic Baptist forefathers who had not only 
made possible the College, but in the Colonial days had 
founded the Denomination in the state. From all over Virginia 
came the Baptist ministers and laymen and the exercises were 
held on the College campus where seats had been temporarily 
constructed for the multitude. Virginia Baptists have seldom 
witnessed such a day as that. Dr. J. L. M. Curry, was the 



DR. J. L. M. CURRY 91 

orator and Dr Hatcher writes a description of the occasion 
and his words show the ardor and fire with which his own 
soul was burning. It was characteristic of him to dedicate 
his whole heart to an enterprise when once he had championed 
it and on that Memorial Day no one was more sympathetic 
or enthusiastic than he. His portrait of Dr. Curry reflects 
his own spirit. "The rusty old lock," which he mentions, came 
from the Culpeper Jail where James Ireland, a heroic Baptist 
preacher, had been imprisoned for his faith in the Colonial 
days. But let him paint the picture: 

" Curry was in his prime then — in person kingly and beau- 
tiful. His hair was barely touched with silver as it rioted over 
his brow. His voice, in spite of cruel misuse, was mighty as a 
warrior's trumpet and with all thought of politics out of him 
in those days, he was instinct with high religious convictions 
and loaded with a mighty message for the Baptist brotherhood 
massed before him in such multitude on that high day. 

"Ah, how he towered as he told it. It had a rich, a gladsome 
sound. There was no note in it at all ajar. The people did 
about everthing that was allowable on such an occasion to 
express their pride and rapture. They sometimes laughed, 
sometimes cried, sometimes spoke in their uncontrollable 
excitement, sometimes burst into fragmentary praises, or 
ejaculatory prayers, sometimes grasped hands and swapped 
fellowship without ceremony and sometimes they seemed to do 
all these things, and several others besides, all at the same 
time. 

"When Dr. Curry drew out the rusty old lock of Ireland's 
palace at Culpeper (as the famous old minister called his 
prison) and turned its key until its grating note smote the 
public ear I thought the tent would have to go. A crisis was 
at hand — the crowd stood up in forgetful intensity and surged 
and cried and fairly melted under the orator's peroration. The 
Baptists were enjoying their independence that day. They 
had a new taste of liberty and life was at high tide. 

"It would warm the old hearts to call the roll of those who 
were on hand that day. The chiefs of the tribes were on hand." 

That Memorial campaign marked the dawning of a new career 
for Richmond College and today she stands unsurpassed among 



92 LETTER TO DR. J. A. CHAMBLISS 

the Colleges of the South. He held revival meetings in the Fall 
at the Second Church in Richmond and afterwards wrote the 
following chatty letter to Dr. J. A. Chambliss who had been 
pastor of that same Second Church: 

"Dec. 23rd, 1873. 
"Why, my dear Cham: 

"Howdy! How do you do? How is Mrs. Cham? Little 
Chams, all well? Any new Chams at your house? Certainly 
am proud to meet you. You look as jolly as if folks had been 
sending you Christmas gobblers, fruit cake and cigars. 

"Have been thinking of you very often of late. Couldn't 
help it. Been assisting in a meeting at the Second Church in 
Richmond and to save my life I couldn't prevent them from 
saying all manner of pretty things about you. When the 
sisters undertook to regale me with a first class compliment they 
would say: 'You remind us so much of Mr. Chambliss.' I 
slyly intimated to them that the comparison was not flattering 
to me- — which caused them to roll their eyes and wonder if 
insanity ran in my family. 

"Hospitality flung open the front gate and gave me the fat 
of the land. I fear that I grew far faster in gout than in grace 
during my four weeks stay over there. The brethren who pull 

's ears as a mere pastime did not cross me. Old 

man ventured on one solitary occasion to try the 

lancet of his asthmatic satire on me. In anticipation of such 
an event I had laid in a double charge of hot shot. He fled 
at the first fire, but I pursued and captured him and from 
that time he was my most willing slave. 

"Owing to an accumulation of visiting brethren in my study 
I have written not quite as dignified and interesting a letter 
as I had had it in my bosom to write. 

"Yours 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

It was during his Petersburg pastorate that he and a few 
other young pastors formed a device for reducing the conceit 
of the self assertive preachers at the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention. It came about in this way. The President of the 
Convention, Dr. P. H. Mell, was a parliamentary specialist. 
It was his book on parliamentary tactics by which the Con- 



THE AMBULANCE CORPS 93 

vention was governed and he of course had every item of the 
rules at his fingers' ends, and it meant the day of doom for the 
man who clashed with him on a "point of order." 

But there were those who rashly encountered him on the 
floor of the Convention, men who thought that they knew 
parliamentary law as well as Dr. Mell and that, as for Dr. 
Mell "the shrewd and overbearing maker of the new par- 
liamentary tactics, they could give him lessons and a good start 
and then leave him in the lurch in a fair fight." These con- 
flicts between the parliamentary champion and his opponents 
often took place on the floor of the Convention and in nearly 
every case "the brother on the floor" would be ruled "out of 
order" by the president, and would drop into his seat a crumpled 
and defeated contestant. "A few of us of the younger set" 
says Dr. Hatcher "were observers of the pretty little collisions." 
It occured to this little coterie, of which Dr. Hatcher seemed 
to be the founder and leader, that an Ambulance Corps ought 
to be provided to take care of those who were unhorsed and 
wounded in their conflicts with the parliamentary president 
"and so" says Dr. Hatcher "we organized a Society for the 
"Amelioration of the Squashed and Squelched". Of course 
the squashed and squelched were those who had encountered 
the master of tactics on the parliamentary field and had fallen 
beneath the strokes of his spear. It became gradually known 
that this "Ambulance Corps" kept their eye ever on the field 
of battle and were ready to rush to the aid (?) of any one who 
should be "knocked down" or worsted in any of his appear- 
ances before the Convention. For example, at one of the 
sessions a delegate told the members of the Corps that their 
method was brilliant. He joked about their "taking down" 
the self inflated preacher and congratulated them on the good 
work they were doing. 

"We accepted his congratulations with lofty reserve" says 
Dr. Hatcher "rebuking him for treating a matter so grave in 
a fashion so trivial and told him that he ought to consider 
himself lest he also be crushed beneath the wheels of the 



94 THE AMBULANCE CORPS 

parliamentary engine. He laughed defiance in our faces and 
declared that he would never be found among the victims." 

They came to the last day of the Convention and Dr. Hatcher 
and another member of the Corps found themselves sitting 
behind this same self confident brother, who arose and said, in 
substance : 

"Brother Moderator I desire to offer a resolution to the 
effect that the thanks of this Convention be returned to the 
railroads and steamboats for reduced fares in the transpor- 
tation of delegates of this Convention." 

"The brother will reduce his resolution to writing" com- 
manded the president. Down the brother sat and went to 
work on his resolution feeling at the same time that he ought 
to have written his resolution before offering it. But that was 
merely a skin scratch compared with the blow that came from 
a delegate who arose and said : 

"Brother Moderator, that resolution is proper enough in 
its place but while I regard a railroad as one of the great bless- 
ings of the age and I think a steamboat is a joy forever yet 
I doubt whether the railroad or the steamboat could appre- 
ciate a vote of thanks from this Convention." 

"It hit the author of the resolution" says Dr. Hatcher "some- 
where in the region of the solar plexus." 

"Put him down and send an order to the Ambulance Corps:" 
whispered the president of the Corps to the secretary. "What 
is that you said?" asked the perturbed brother who turned 
around with his question to the two officials of the Corps. 
In a very haughty and almost tragical manner the president 
of the "Corps" replied: 

"I must very reluctantly inform you that the secretary was 
ordered to put you down." 

"Put me down where?" he protestingly asked. "There is 
nothing the matter with me. I am not hurt." In a slow, 
deliberate manner the officials said to him: "We advise you 



THE AMBULANCE CORPS 95 

not to talk for there are some very serious symptoms in your 
case. We have already ordered the Ambulance Corps to take 
you in charge." 

"His frankness was admirable" says Dr. Hatcher "He stated 
that it would stick to him forever if it went abroad that he 
had made a fool of himself and had fallen into the hands of the 
Amelioration Corps. It was said that he never got on his 
feet after that, though he attended the Convention for years 
afterwards." 

Ludicrous experiences attended the labors of this group of 
salvage benefactors and without doubt they caused many a 
"swelling aspirant" to think twice before jumping to his feet. 
The dread of becoming a passenger in the Ambulance wagon 
prevailed widely among the delegates. 

"There were really no officers and no organization" says 
Dr. Hatcher. "There were not more than five or six young 
men in any way connected with it. . . . It was an "in- 
tangible and unlocated Association. It was understood that 
when any one of us was assailed we could simply hold still, 
if we preferred or we could assume any relation to the move- 
ment that we desired". This "odd and unscheduled" Society 
played its part for five years and then, after serving its 
purpose, it was said to have dissolved, — or rather it would 
have dissolved but for the fact that it did not have sufficient 
coherency to permit a dissolution. It had done its work, the 
secretary was discharged and they met no more. 

In one of the meetings of his Petersburg church during his 
absence on one occasion a prominent member arose and said 
regarding the heavy financial burden then resting upon the 
church: "I do not know what we will do unless we get a cheaper 
pastor." When on his return, he heard of this public remark 
made in his absence it struck him a keen blow and made him 
indignant and he immediately said to his church, that if brother 
's remarks reflected the sentiment of the church his 



96 SANTA'S VISIT 

resignation was ready to be put in their hands. This brought 
the church quickly to its feet to repudiate the view expressed 
by the brother and to assure him of their loyalty and thus what 
threatened to become a storm passed off as a mere ripple and 
the stream of church work flowed peacefully along. 

One morning, while I was walking through the upstairs hall, 

I met my father who said to me — almost in a whisper "You 

have another sister." 

It startled me, but it gradually came to my understanding 
that little Kate Jeter had arrived and that she had taken her name 
from Mrs. Dr. Jeter, whom we called "Cousin Kate." Two 
other daughters had been born to him,— Virginia Mabel in 
Baltimore and Orie Latham in Petersburg — and a few months 
before his departure from Petersburg, a second son was born, — 
David Steel. 

Already his love of games was manifesting itself. Often 
would he play croquet in the yard of Dr. Hartman, and of the 
Robertsons, and in our home dominoes was very popular with 
him. I remember playing with him one night until one o'clock — 
in the wee small hours — and in every game he was eager to 
beat. 

Christmas was a time of jollification at our house and he 
was always the Magna Pars in its festivities. He arranged 
with Santa Claus to reach our home on Christmas Eve and 
we children noticed particularly that he and Santa seemed to 
be on extra good terms with each other. At the approach of 
Christmas he would always get for us some immense paper 
bags, — My! how big they seemed! These bags were to hold the 
presents from Uncle Santa. They would be opened wide and 
set up in a row against the wall in the front hall where the old 
gentleman from the Polar regions easily could see them when he 
entered the front door. Into these bags he would empty the 
presents for the children. 

How happy father was in it all as he arranged the bags 
and got us ready for the anticipated arrival of Uncle Santa at 
eight o'clock that night. A short while before eight we would 



SANTA ARRIVES 97 

be rounded up in the front parlor and given solemn warnings 
about our quiet behavior while old Santa was filling the bags 
in the hall. What jumping around and what rattling, gleeful 
chatter we had as we waited in the parlor for the wonderful 
arrival! 

"What was that at the door?" — Ah, it was the front door bell 
and our hearts stopped still. 

"There he is — Uncle Santa!" said father to us. "Now perfect 
quiet and let each one remain right here and I will go out and 
meet the old gentleman." 

"Ah, but didn't we hold open our ears to listen, though we 
could hardly hold our hearts from jumping on the outside of us. 
We could hear father open the door and then say in loud cheery 
tones: "Why Uncle Santa; how are you? Do walk right in; a 
thousand welcomes to you." Of course we did not see Uncle 
Santa. It would have meant untold woes and disasters for us 
if we had looked through that key hole. But we heard him 
plainly as he talked in a high-pitched, thin voice. It is true that 
the voice at one or two, places, when it would drop down, soun- 
ded just a little wee bit like father's voice but of course we could 
not expect Uncle Santa's voice to be entirely unlike every other 
voice in the world. In a high, thin voice Uncle Santa would say, 
panting a little as if he was out of breath:" "Well, I thought 
once I might not get here — so many places — so many young 
ones. And how are the children?" My! how we did jump and 
tremble when he asked that. 

"Are they all well?" "Oh yes" said the father "they are in 
tip top health./ 

"And how have they behaved since I was here last Christ- 
mas?" — What a fearful question — we thought. 

"Oh they are fine children Uncle Santa; they are too noisy 
sometimes and sometimes they jump the track of good be- 
havior but I think they are sorry and are going to try to rub 
out and start afresh and I think Santa that they are about 
the finest children on the globe." 

"Ah, that is good news" he said "and here are some things 



98 HANDING OUT THE PRESENTS 

I have brought with me all the way from the frozen land of 
icicles and they are for the children — (Violent heart jumpings 
in the parlor). 

"Here are the things for Eldridge" — (roaring cataracts and 
internal convulsions of the first born in the parlor). Father 
called out : 

"Here is Eldridge's bag, Uncle Santa." 

"Here are the presents for May" — said Santa (another mighty 
commotion) . 

"Right here is her bag, Uncle Santa — how kind it is in you 
to bring these beautiful things from the far away land of 
blizzards." 

"These are for Orie" said Uncle Santa — (Excitement in the 
parlor impossible of suppression.) 

"Here is the bag for Orie" called out father. 

"And now lets see — there is another — Yes, yes, here it is — 
for Kate and it goes into this bag I suppose" — (conditions in 
the parlor worse than ever) "But I must be going; thousands 
of homes are still waiting for me." 

"I wish you could stay with us Uncle Santa," 

"Impossible! Give my love to the children and tell them 
that if they want to see me next Christmas they must be the 
best children on the deck." Uncle Santa hurried away: we 
know he did for did we not hear the door open and then shut 
with a bang, — but that was all we did hear for the parlor door 
was then flung wide open and such scampering for those bags 
and such eager diving in to their contents and such happy 
shouts over the discoveries — and the happiest one in the entire 
party was the father — who evidently believed with the children : 

"At Christmas play and make good cheer, 
For Christmas comes but once a year." 

We find him next making a dash into South Carolina visit- 
ing Charleston where he delivered two sermons and a lecture. 
"You know it was a treat" said a writer in the Herald, "Every- 



SERMON THEMES 99 

body knows it who has ever met Hatcher." After speaking 
of the "matchless" sermon on Gideon he continued: 

"Monday night he delivered his famous lecture on 'The 
Advantages of the Modern Dance.' The house was crowded 
and such a time as we had. I am sure he never delivered that 
lecture with more perfect success. He spoke fully for an hour 
and a half — but apparently everybody was willing to sit 
another hour if he would only keep on with his irresistibly 
humorous though 'squelching' satire. But socially also, 
the visit of my friend and brother was a joy to be tasted through 
many a day to come. And not only for me, but — witness the 
number of bouquets and souvenirs of different kinds with 
delicate cards attached which came to his address!" 

Very few manuscripts remain of the sermons which he 
preached in Petersburg. The following are some of these few 
which have been preserved. 

Jan. 4th, 1874— "Building Altars for God." 2 Sam.24:25. 

Feb. 1st, 1874 — "Bowing in the House of Rimmon." 2 Kings 
5:18. 

March 2nd, 1874— "Bringing the Paralytic to Jesus."Mark 
2:3. 

Nov. 28th, 1874— "Eating at the King's Table." 2 Sam. 
9: 7, 8. 

Nov. 28th, 1874— "Paul's Vision at Corinth." Acts 18:9,10. 
Jan. 10th, 1875— "False Piety". 1 Sam. 15:13,14. 

Jan. 10th, 1875— "David and Goliath." 1 Sam 17:37. 

Jan. 15th, 1875— "Nathan's Reproof of David." 2 Sam 12 :7. 

Jan. 31, 1875— "The Gentle Conqueror." Matt. 12:20. 

The Petersburg climate played havoc with his health in the 
Summer of 1874 and he was ordered off to the Springs. He went 
to the White Sulphur Springs. Col. George L. Peyton, the 
proprietor of the Springs was exceedingly fond of him and 
frequently urged him to visit the Springs as his guest. 

He and his wife in December celebrated the tenth anniver- 
sary of their marriage by having at their home a "Tin Wedding." 
Heaps and loads of tin were brought into the house on that 



100 THE BOYS MEETINGS 

occasion. One of the ladies sent Mrs. Hatcher a silk dress of 
the color of tin to wear at the wedding. The children were 
very happy over the big tin barrel which was packed with cut 
loaf sugar. It was tin in the front parlor and tin in the 
back parlor; tin in the hall and tin in the dining room; tin to 
the left of us and tin to the right of us, — tin, tin piled every- 
where, — even the Catholic priest being one of the tin bearers 
and many were the months that sped by before the last remnant 
of that avalanche of tin was obliterated from our home. 

He had his Boys Meetings every Sunday afternoon in which 
he made large use of "Dialogues". The dialogues were written 
by himself. They were breezy in style, serious as well as 
humorous, and treated of live subjects. The boys were trained 
by him. I remember one day that a message came from him in 
Richmond for his dialogue boys to be sent over to Richmond at 
once, — that they were to give an evening's entertainment at 
the First Baptist Church. What a panic of delight we were 
thrown into by the announcement! What hurrying on of 
Sunday clothes and what jubilant expectancy was ours as we 
set out for Richmond. It was a State Sunday School As- 
sociation and Dr. Hatcher had been asked to take charge of 
the Friday evening's programme and he decided to bring "his 
boys" over for the occasion. 

No time was given us in Petersburg that day for brushing 
up on our pieces for we scarcely had time to brush up our hair 
or our clothes. We received the hurried message and had 
to jump for the train in what seemed to me a very short time 
but probably the exhilaration of that trip gave double quick- 
ness to our memories and put us on our mettle. At any rate 
there was no break down in our Richmond performances, or if 
such there was, history has mercifully left it out. The 
church was filled to overflowing and we came back to Peters- 
burg to tell of "the trip of our lives." 

A few weeks later I noticed a strange occurrence in the 
church service one Sunday morning. The congregation seemed 
to be attacked with an epidemic of weeping. I understood it not, 



CLOSES PETERSBURG PASTORATE 101 

but later, out in the church yard, one of the gentlemen said 
to me — possibly in reply to my enquiry regarding the red and 
tearful eyes — "Your father is going to leave Petersburg. He 
has accepted a call to Richmond." 

His Petersburg pastorate had been eminently prosperous 
and the devotion of the membership to him had never been 
greater than at that time but when the door swung open to the 
larger pastorate in the Capital city — that of the Grace Street 
Baptist Church — he felt that there he must do his next work. 
When his name was being considered by the Grace Street 
Church committee Dr. Jeter in speaking about him said to 
them: "He will never make a flash in the pan." 



CHAPTER X. 

1875-1876. 

RICHMOND. RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS. BOYS* MEETING* 

DIALOGUES. 

His removal to Richmond lifted his ministry to a higher and 
broader platform, Richmond, at that time, being the chief city 
of the South. His first sermon in his new field was preached 
on the last Sunday in May. The location of the church was 
ideal, though the structure was old and without many con- 
veniences. 

He tells how he came to be called to Grace Street: 

"I came to this church under peculiar circumstances. My 
predecessor had resigned some time before under factional 
pressure and his resignation had been accepted. There was, 
however, an ill-suppressed mutter of discontent as to the situation 
and when the committee appointed to recommend a pastor 
brought in my name my predecessor was nominated also by 
a member of the church and when the vote came I was in- 
gloriously left in the lurch; but the pastor re-elect felt con- 
strained to decline the call and my name was presented again 
and I received all the votes except one. The lonely voter was 
one of the regenerated oddities of the human race." 

He then tells how this recalcitrant brother gradually came 
to be his lover and champion. This factional element was in 
the church when he came but they seemed friendly to him and 
joined with the other members in giving him a bright, royal 
welcome. 

Immediately after entering upon his work at Grace Street 
he found himself in such feeble health that he had to betake 
himself to the mountains. This was a great disappointment 

102 




GRACE STREET BAPTIST CHURCH 



I 



!l 



\ 






COLLEGE ADDRESS 103 

to him. He had left Petersburg with malaria in his system 
and it threatened to put him hors de combat. Before leaving 
for the springs he showed his platform skill in a very playful 
and popular address at the Richmond College Commencement. 

"First of all" says the Herald in reporting the address "he 
congratulated the students, one and all, upon their spotless 
and irreproachable conduct during the last nine months. They 
had not broken a rule, nor uttered an evil word, nor marked 
a wall, nor rung a bell, nor joined in a callathump, nor tor- 
tured a gawky new-comer, nor ducked a professor, nor cheated 
at an examination, nor invaded a strawberry garden, nor had 
been out at night, nor had had imaginary headaches, nor 
borrowed money, nor written poetry, nor done any other ill- 
mannered, or immoral thing. He said that they had not done 
these things — at least, he had not heard of their doing them. 
True, he had not interviewed the faculty on the subject for he 
thought his congratulations could be as cordial and unqualified 
without such interview. And even if some busy and venomous 
tongue had whispered of irregularities and errors he could 
hardly believe the rumor, after gazing at them that night, 
looking so erect and serene, so innocent and lovely, so strong 
and happy. But even if some of them had yielded to the 
temptation he still congratulated them that they had gone no 
further astray and that they would now have opportunity to 
gather their scattered virtues and fortify against the dangers 
of next session. 

"In the next place, he congratulated them all on the result 
of the examinations, no matter what the results had been. 
To the successful he spoke earnest words of approval, but 
exhorted them not to imagine that they now had the world 
in a sling and that the sun would cease to shine if they were 
suddenly to die. 

"Some of them had failed through their own fault, and he 
congratulated them that they had no honors which they did 
not deserve and which would prove hurtful if thus bestowed. 
But he made to this class an exhortation so practical that we 
give it in full : 

" 'Do the correct thing about your failure. Don't try to 
whitewash the case. Don't administer chloroform to your 
father or mother. Don't say you were sick. Don't say you had 
too many tickets. Don't lay it on the professors. Don't call 



104 COLLEGE ADDRESS 

it a misfortune. Above all, don't ascribe it to your genius, 
and sneer at your more successful comrades. There was no 
genius in it except the evil genius of indifference. Tell how it 
was — tell that it was the resistless fascination of Richmond 
girls — tell that you spent too much time in airing your best 
clothes on Grace and Franklin Street — tell how you were too 
fond of Dickens, or baseball, or whatever it was. If you have 
pluck and vim to do better next session, ask your father to 
give you another chance and come back in September and next 
June you will be here to share the honors of your Alma Mater. 
But if you really lack the energy and purpose for a new start 
in a vigorous pace — if failure cleaves to your bones — then give 
my compliments to your honored and unhappy father, and 
tell him that my advice to him is to buy one of P. H. Starke's 
new improved plows and elect you president of it." 

"The speaker then spoke words of earnest sympathy and 
good cheer to those who had failed through no fault of their 
own and said: 

" 'God bless you, my boy I recall my ill-chosen word. You 
have not failed. You missed the distinction, but you got the 
discipline. Life is always short, but long enough for a steady 
resolute spirit to win success. I congratulate you that there 
is an open track before you and your past experience will 
enable you to run it.' 

"He then congratulated the students, in appropriate words, 
on the close of the session and their return to their homes and 
gave them some facetious counsel about their country sweet- 
hearts and as his address, he said, would be incomplete without 
some grave advice, he concluded with these three points : 

" '1. Don't be in too great a hurry to get married. 

" '2 Work for the College. She is your mother. She is not 
perfect but it is not for a son to tell a mother's faults. 

" '3. Be men, 

"The above, meagre outline gives some imperfect idea of Dr. 
Hatcher's admirable address. His blended humor, wit, satire 
and pathos brought down the house in loud applause and de- 
lighted the audience who pronounced it a splendid specimen 
of a College speech." 

He decided to accept the hospitality of Col. George Peyton, 
the big souled and fun loving proprietor of the White Sulphur 
Springs, where he had enjoyed a visit on the preceding Summer. 






NEVER FORGETTING FACES 105 

His arrival at the Springs on this Summer was enlivened by 
a humorous incident of his own devising. It dated back to the 
previous Summer when he was at these Springs and when the 

resident physician of the Springs, Dr. M , boasted often 

to Dr. Hatcher and Col. Peyton of his ability to remember 

faces. "In fact" said Dr. M "I never forget a face." 

They spent many hours in happy chat and the Doctor did not 
fail at different times to ring the changes on his unfailing 
talent for recognizing old acquaintances. That was in the 
Summer of 1874. 

On the next Summer when Dr. Hatcher arrived at the 
Springs he was given a cordial greeting by Col. Peyton. 

"How is our friend Dr. M ?" asked Dr. Hatcher. 

"Unusually well" replied the Colonel "and it will do him good 
to meet you again." 

"Is he still recognizing old acquaintances?" The Colonel 
broke into a laugh as he said: "Ah you remember that do you? 
Well he surely will not dare not to recognize you after his 
boasting of last Summer." 

"Suppose, Colonel, we put our heads together and put the 
old gentlemen to a good test." said Dr. Hatcher. After a 
brief council of war the plot was laid. Dr. Hatcher was bundled 
up in a big overcoat, the large collar was turned up and pulled 
around the ears and mouth and the slouch hat pulled down 
well over the forehead. Slowly they walked over to the old 
Doctor's office. 

"Come in gentlemen" he called out as he opened his door. 
"How are you Colonel Peyton; have a chair." 

"Doctor" said the Colonel "Here is a friend of mine — (Great 
coughing and clearing of throat on the part of the closely but- 
toned up friend) — a friend of mine, Major John Cutting from 
Arkansas who seems to be much afflicted with some trouble" 
— (continued and increasing coughing by the friend as if it was 
accompanied with great pain.) 

"Oh, is that so?" said the Doctor somewhat nervously; "Too 
bad. What seems to be your trouble, Major — what did you 
say the name was Colonel? 

"Major Cutting." a Oh, yes, pardon me Major; I cannot 
always remember names, but a face I never forget, never." 






106 RETURN TO RICHMOND 

(Violent coughing on the part of the Major as he ventured 
to speak) — "Eh — Doc-tor-I-de — (coughing) You see (coughing) 
— my condition Doctor — eh— eh what do you think of me?" 

"Doctor," spoke up the Colonel, "I think I'll ask you to pause 
just one moment; I want to introduce an old friend to you — I 
want you to meet our old friend" and here the patient straight- 
ened up, the coat collar was turned down and the hat lifted — 
"Dr. William E. Hatcher." 



He returned from the Springs strong and eager for the work 
in his new pastorate. The presence of Dr. J. B. Jeter in his 
church was worth to him scores of ordinary members. He 
always sat in the middle aisle not far from the front. 

"He rarely ever failed to be present at both services on 
Sunday and at the prayer meeting on Wednesday night unless 
on duty somewhere else. He was a magnificent hearer open 
eyed, upright and eager. His smile, his glistening eyes, his 
unconscious bows, his falling tears and beating breast were 
signals of cheer and support." 

As in Petersburg, so in Richmond, he seemed to feel that 
his pastorate would not be properly launched until a great 
revival had come upon the church. He prayed and worked^ 
towards that end and in November the meetings began and 
for ten weeks they continued with the pastor doing the preaching. 
The wonderful nature of the meetings is seen from the fol- 
lowing statement from Dr. Jeter in the Herald: "In a forty 
years residence in the city, though we have known more 
general revivals, we have not seen a more pervasive and power- 
ful work of grace in any one congregation. . . It is fair 
to estimate that 250 persons have made a profession of re- 
pentance." 

His Boys' Meeting soon began to loom into large proportions. 
These meetings were not only entertaining and instructive 
for the boys, but the boys were enlisted in raising money for 
church improvements. It was in Richmond, he said, that 
his work with the boys "rose to its full height ... I had 
found my inheritance at last — banks and tides and storms of 



THE BOYS' MEETING 107 

boys." Who of all the boys that attended those meetings can 
ever forget them? No sooner was the Sunday dinner eaten than 
off to the church would dash the boys. In front of the church 
door they gathered and surged in happy chatter until the ar- 
rival of the pastor who usually came up with a squad that had 
accumulated around him as he came down the street. The 
door was opened and in they scampered, piling into the benches 
in lively clatter and taking unlimited time in getting settled 
in their seats. What bustle and life was there! The air seemed 
vibrant with energy. How the boys did sing and what eager- 
eyed attention they gave to whoever got on the platform, — 
that is provided he put in his speech gumption and snap. The 
boys could not be kept from the meetings. Attractive though 
their homes might be yet on Sunday afternoon there was a 
magnet that pulled them out of their homes and around to 
Grace Street. 

Playmates might whistle at their front gates or ring their 
door bells for a visit on Sunday afternoon but these youthful 
callers were either wheeled into line for Grace Street Church, or 
else the visit was sidetracked for another occasion. That Boy's 
meeting was the bright particular spot for them after dinner 
on Sunday. 

"The mothers said that they could hardly hold the boys 
until they got their dinner and that, you know, is a well nigh 
incredible thing to say about a normal boy" writes Dr. Hatcher. 

There was an organist and a chorister to lead the boys in 
their singing and it was roaring music that they would have. 
Sometimes there were solos by popular visiting singers. Oft- 
times the boys gave solos or duets or quartettes. Speakers 
innumerable — many of them distinguished — were mustered 
into service for a speech to the boys. 

A prominent educator, — a Methodist — said recently "I am 
one of Dr. Hatcher's boys. My mother did not know what to do 
with me on Sunday afternoons. Our neighbor's son asked 



■MJ*i:CJ*& 



108 TRAINING THE BOYS 

me to go with him to Grace Street. I went and continued to 
go for three years. I love the memory of Dr. Hatcher." 

In many parts of the world to-day are ministers whose 
hearts kindle at the recollection of those meetings. For 
example Rev. T. V. McCall says: 

"Somehow I feel that of all the boys who came under Dr. 
Hatcher's influence in old Grace Street Church I must have 
profited most. He trained me in the Boys Meeting." 

Of course he sought to put spice and sparkle in the meetings. 
There was a freedom and spontaneity in the exercises, and often 
a ripple of fun would break over the proceedings, though ir- 
reverence, or unseemly levity was never permitted. For 
example one afternoon one of the boys — Jeter Jones — when 
the roll had been called, said: "Dr. Hatcher we have exactly 
99 boys present. If we had only one more boy we would have 
one hundred." 

"Here is Clarkson" said Dr. Hatcher as he pointed to a lad 
of great altitude. If we will cut him in two we will have the 
one hundred. A storm of laughter broke upon the boys as 
they looked at Clarkson and yet the bantering of Clarkson was 
in such jovial, kindly vein that he joined in the joke and laughed 
with the others. 

He trained them in raising money, one of their methods 
being that of securing honorary members, each of whom 
should pay ten cents per month. 

The boys were drilled in public speaking and once a year they 
would have their public anniversary in the church auditorium. 
The boys would be in full charge of the programme, — one 
acting as presiding officer, another delivering the address of 
welcome and many of them taking part in the dialogues, Dr. 
Hatcher having written all the pieces and having trained the 
boys. It was said that these celebrations by the boys unearthed 
many members who had not been at church for a long time and 
whom nothing else could attract. At one of these celebrations 
a boy came out on the platform, advanced to the front, 
started to make his bow, when he stepped back and looked 



BOYS' ANNUAL CELEBRATIONS 109 

around in a dazed fashion. Another boy approached him and 
demanded to know why he was standing there looking so 
scared. 

"You'd be scared too" he replied "if you saw ghosts in the 
audience as I do. I see members of the church here tonight 
who I thought had been dead for years and yet here they are 
tonight." 

One of these "ghost" members, upon meeting him one day 
said: "Dr. Hatcher, I do not like the outside of our 
church." 

"Yes" he replied "and you dont seem to like the inside 
either." 

Let us, in imagination, look in upon one of these annual 
celebrations by the boys. The building was usually crammed 
with people, — on the floor and in the galleries. At the ap- 
pointed moment out steps a boy upon the high, broad pulpit 
platform, and in loud tones calls out: 

"Ladies and gentlemen": and then follows a five minutes 
Address of Welcome after which he announces, "The next 
item on the programme is a dialogue on 'What we are going 
to be' by George, Leon, James, Jeter and others.' " 

He steps back to his seat at the rear of the pulpit while every 
eye is fixed on the side door. Out comes "George" who moves 
to the front of the platform saying with a shout: "Hurrah for : 
me! I feel as happy as Julius Caesar!" 

"You do?" said another boy who had come on the platform 
from the other door; "You make such a racket I thought you 
had swallowed a cyclone and it was trying to work out at 
your mouth." 

George — "Well, I am rather noisy tonight, but I cant help 
it. I feel happy in my bones. A big thing happened at our 
house to-day." 

Leon — "What was it? Did your mother whip your father; 
or did you have scalloped monkey for dinner?" 

George — "Father informed me that I might quit school and 
go to work. Aint that glorious?" 






110 DIALOGUES 

Enter James 
James — "What do you mean? Are you going to give up your 
chance for an education? You are a very slim pattern for a 
business man. What are you going to be?" 

Enter Jeter 
Jeter — "Going to be? I tell you what I am going to be; I 
am going to be a doctor." 

George. — "A doctor! I wouldn't be any doctor, forever 
looking in folk's mouths, cutting open boils, smelling measles, 
getting up all times of night, and may-be killing people. I am 
going to be a merchant, and keep ready-made clothes." 

Leon. — "You say you are? I hope you will sew the buttons 
on your clothes so they won't drop off the first time you sneeze. 
It seems to me that the ready-made clothes sold in this town 
were taken off some old mummy, for they are rotten and ready 
to come to pieces." 

James. — "I wouldn't be any merchant — specially dry-goods 
merchant — bothering with smirking, grinning clerks, and tor- 
mented by those street-walking women who spend their time 
in looking at things they have not got any money to buy. I 
shall hang out my shingle as a lawyer." 

George. — "Lawyer, indeed! I scorn the very idea of being a 
lawyer. It gives me a swimming in the head to see one of these 
little petty-fogging jack-legs strutting along the street as if the 
sun and stars belonged to him. I always feel as if he was hoping 
that I would steal a sheep or rob a bank so he could have a 
chance to make some money out of me." 

Enter Tom. 

Jeter. — "Come in, brother, we are talking about what we are 
going to be." 

Tom. — "What you are going to be? I think I will be a car- 
penter and build houses." 

James. — "You wouldn't catch me being a carpenter — 
mashing my thumb-nails, falling off scaffolds, quarreling with 
plasterers and painters, worried by ladies about hanging doors 
and mending gates, and being abused all the time about not 
finishing houses in the time promised." 

Leon. — "It seems to me boys that this is a very important 
question as to what we are going to be." 



DIALOGUES 111 

And thus the dialogue proceeds. Nat swings the dialogue 
around to the truth that the first thing for a boy to decide to 
be is that he wUl be a man, a useful christian man and that his 
business, whatever it may be, should be managed for the glory 
of God. 

The rehearsals for the dialogues were signally interesting. 
Dr. Hatcher would have the boys come to his study, or his 
house and he would seek to pummel them into shape. Some 
would talk too fast and some too slow: some too loud and far 
more, too low. His corrections and criticisms were made with 
a pleasant badinage and, through it all, the boys and Dr. Hatcher 
had happy times together. On one occasion there was a dia- 
logue on "Speaking in Public" in which a boy, — right out on 
the platform before the audience — was taught how to make a 
speech. In this dialogue several boys met on the platform, 
and tried to induce one of their number to deliver an address to 
the audience. The boy refused to do so, but they belabored 
him with arguments in favor of his learning to speak in public 
and when he finally consented they set to work at once to 
teach him the following speech: 

"You'd scarce expect one of my age 
To speak in public on the stage. 

And if I chance to fall below 
Demosthenes and Cicero; 

View me not with a critic's eye, 
But pass my imperfections by." 

They had a rough time making him say it. He would begin 
with: "You'd scarce suspect." He would say: "cricket's eye" 
instead of "critic's eye." Thus they kept at it until finally, 
when they had knocked him into shape, they marched him 
to the front of the platform; he made his bow and said his 
speech without a hitch. Of course such experiences with the 
boys gave the pastor a mighty grip on them. They were 
often invited to other churches to sing and to deliver their 
dialogues. 



112 LOVE FOR BOYS 

"It was estimated that during its life time over $10,000 
passed through the treasury of their society and on one oc- 
casion the church finding itself in a strait borrowed quite a sum 
of money from the boys." 

If the meetings were a fountain of life for him they were more 
than that for the boys. For twenty six years that Society 
was receiving into its embrace hundreds of boys, and inspiring 
them with its ennobling influences. But his love for boys 
burned in his heart not merely on Sunday afternoons but on 
every day and a large portion of his life was spent with some 
boy near at hand. 

Many men have told of some word spoken by him that set 
the lights gleaming in their young life which never went out. 
"Perhaps, after all," writes Dr. Prestridge "his main ser- 
vice for God in the world has been the inspiration and help 
which he has given to large numbers of boys and young men." 



CHAPTER XL 

1876-1877 

AMUSING PULPIT EXPERIENCES. HUMOR AND WIT. 

He invites his royal friend, Dr. Thos. H. Pritchard of Raleigh 
N. C, to be his guest at the meeting in Richmond of the South- 
ern Baptist Convention and he extends his invitation in the 
following, playful manner; 

"Richmond, Va., April 11, 1876. 
'My Dear Thomas: 

"I write for the compound purpose of saying that you are a 
scholar and several other things. 

"I wish that I had the genius of Mr. Jno. G. Williams, the 
cheerfulness of Mrs. Lewis, the dignity of Mrs. Vass, the big 
house and yet bigger soul of Mrs. Heck, the financial sagacity 
of Captain Williamson and the fine clothes and universal 

rascality of , and then I would take all Raleigh as my 

guest at the Convention. But having nothing except my wife 
and children, my poverty and my debts, my pride and my sins, 
together with a small house and nothing to eat, I cannot do it. 
There is, however, for Raleigh's noble sake one thing that I 
would be glad to do — if "Barkis is willin" — and that is to 
share the reigning destitution of my obscure hovel with you 
during that meeting. It is a strain upon your friendship 
which I am ashamed to make and if you think the sacrifice too 
great I will excuse you— with a sob. To exist on half rations 
and eat out of a broken plate at such a time will be a trial 
to you and if you can do better then I say (with another sob) 
by all means do it. 

"If however you would condescend to abate your metro- 
politan majesty to the extent of foraging on the borders of 
starvation and be willing to rest your refined corpus on a 

113 






114 A TUMBLE FROM THE PULPIT 

bed of straw then you can say to your admiring friends that 
during the convention they can find you at 507 W. Grace 
Street. 

"I count myself a small fish in these Richmond waters and 
in this I have the melancholy satisfaction of believing that 
I am not alone in my opinion. I wish you were here, but why 
should a minnow be ambitious to fill the river with horny 
heads. He might get himself swallowed. 

"Eaton is booming in Petersburg still. He has a roaring 
meeting and is about to break his net in his heavy drags. 

"N. B. Excuse my piscatorial illustrations. It is the season 
for shad. 

"I have just come in from a fifty four miles buggy drive to 
Charles City county. I went to lecture at a country church 
and made $50.25; the church took just $50.25 of the money and 
gave me the rest. 

"Yours, Wm. E. Hatcher." 

He had an amusing experience with Dr. Pritchard in his 
Raleigh church. 

"It occured at an old time revival meeting, with services 
held in the basement room, the pulpit consisted of a platform 
without rail and steps at each side, the interest was intense 
and the great room was crowded. The pastor, well rounded 
and big of soul, occupied a cane bottomed chair on the platform 
back of where I stood to speak. Having his chair slightly 
tilted and desiring to get a little nearer he let his chair down 
as he supposed on its front legs. Unluckily the outside leg missed 
the floor. Hearing a noise behind me I unconsciously turned 
just in time to see the preacher and the chair roll down the 
steps and land in a hopeless jumble on the floor. My first 
impulse, a very innocent one, was to break into laughter. By 
hard struggle I held in, which was more than was done by the 
congregation and especially by the preacher's wife for there 
was quite a ripple swept the audience. I was helped in restrain- 
ing myself by the fact that a most venerable and even dis- 
tinguished old gentleman sat with his elbow on the bench in 
front of me, his face resting in his hands which also con- 
tained his handkerchief. His solemn air and stately posture 
rebuked my impulse to laugh. I felt reverence for a man so 
far above the temptation which was so strong in me. All the 



A MISPLACED GESTURE 115 

time however, a laugh was strong in him and after awhile, 
with his handkerchief crammed tight in his mouth and his 
dignity in total wreck, he broke into one of the most discordant, 
uproarious, uncontrollable peals of laughter that one would 
hear in a life time. Things had to have their way, though I 
laughed not. 

"A real laugh may be imprisoned, but it will be heard from. 
I closed the sermon. Obtusely enough, I called on the pastor 
to pray. I knelt placing my face in my hand upon the seat 
of the pew. The agony of that moment will not be forgotten. 
I shut my lips and pressed them into my hands and prayed that 
I might die or hold in. With the Amen of the pastor I sprang 
to my feet, broke all records in the brevity of my benediction 
and had histerics for the first and only time in my life. I laughed 
straight through two hours and again and again during the 
night, I waked up with new convulsions." 

He had another experience while preaching that sorely 
strained his risibilities. Dr. A. E. Dickinson was seated upon 
the pulpit at the time but sleep overcame the Doctor and his 
head fell somewhat backwards and he failed before dropping 
to sleep, to close his mouth, or perchance, it fell open after he 
had fallen asleep. Dr. Hatcher during his preaching, brought 
his hand down upon the pulpit and there it lay as he proceeded 
with his sermon, — at least he thought it still lay on the 
pulpit, but he had shifted his position — sidewise and very near 
to Dr. Dickinson. He decided to make a vigorous gesture; 
he lifted his hand high in the air with the purpose of bringing 
it down upon the pulpit in a big oratorical plunge. Down 
it came and landed — not upon the pulpit — but alas upon the 
open mouth of his slumbering neighbor on the platform. He 
said he felt distinctly the print of Dr. Dickinson's teeth. 

When he was walking around the church that night after 
the service he encountered Dr. Dickinson who said to him with 
apparent and well justified ferociousness: "Look here Hatcher; 
you grand rascal, you came near knocking every tooth out 
of my mouth.' ' 

The fact must be mentioned that a shadow appeared at 
this time in his pastoral sky. The old faction in the church 



\ 



116 FACTIONAL TROUBLES 

which he had hoped had melted out of existence began to 
revive and lift up its head. He thus writes: 

"I found in the church a faction. — a faction small, solid and 
fractious to the point of war. It was on the fence when I got 
there and lit on my side and sampled me, amply coddling and 
feasting and flattering me during the time. I put in all my 
arts in the way of conciliation and had enough stupid vanity 
to think that I was born for such a time as that but before I 
got through with it I almost wished that I had not been born 
at all." 

He tells why the faction turned against him: 

"They had certain cherished crochets which they desired 
my aid in transmuting into church laws and there were also 
certain influential members in the church who, in their judgment, 
were altogether too active in governmental matters. More 
than all I was gradually developing individual characteristics, 
lines of policies and committing business blunders that they 
felt it was of the utmost importance that they should supervise, 
correct or quietly exterminate. 

"Soon the blast of their hostile trumpet gave forth its shriek. 
The war was on and for nearly ten years my feet trod the 
thorny path." 

From this time forth he is to show his capacity for dealing 
with those who irritated, or opposed him. Out in the world's arena 
men who are ill-treated by others can either fight or leave their 
opponent to his fate, but a pastor with hostile members can 
neither fight nor ignore. He must be a kindly shepherd to 
the unfriendly and to the obstructionists. 

The manuscript of a Commencement address which he 
delivered in June of this year, 1876, at the Albermarle Female 
Institute bears the marks of his thorough preparation. His 
subject was "The School girl at home." Only a few paragraphs 
of the speech can be quoted here: 

"I knew a girl that went away to school for a session and 
when she returned she made all manner of fun of her freckled, 



WIT AND HUMOR 117 

red-haired, farmer cousin and then when near the dark border 
line of thirty she married him. 

"2. Let her avoid the affectation of learning. Pedantry in a 
young man is a trial and if I ever get hanged for deliberate 
murder it will be for killing in cold blood one of these literary 
upstarts who wears long hair, cultivates a pale brow, forgets 
to tie his shoes, puts on his coat wrong side out, reads German 
poetry in bed all night, talks in words of sesquipedalian longi- 
tude and is in short a born and incurable fool. To save my 
soul I can conceive of no design in his creation except to be the 
husband of a pedantic woman — the only punishment that is 
severe enough for him." 

In closing he urged them to "throw the matchless drapery 
of piety around a trained mind and a busy and useful life." 

At the meeting of the Baptist General Association in June 
he favored abolishing the Sunday School Board because he 
thought it was dead, but some thought differently and so he 
said in his speech: "I consider the Board dead, but to prove the 
fact unmistakably to those who think that it still has life 
I propose that we keep the body out until next June and then 
bury it." He seems to have been in a bright mood in the meet- 
ings for we read that in his speech on Ministerial Education 
"Dr. Hatcher went on to some length in veins of humor and 
happy hits which cannot be caught and put on paper" and that 
same month we read that at the Richmond College Commence- 
ment "Dr. W. E. Hatcher, in a speech full of wit and wisdom 
presented the Steel medal." 

No delineation of his character is complete without a reference 
to his humor and wit. "Humor" says Carlyle "has been justly 
regarded as the finest perfection of poetic genius." This pays 
high tribute to humor but it does not define it. Lowell seems 
to speak truly when he says "humor is the perception of the 
incongruous." In other words the humorist is the man who 
sees things in their odd relations and shows them to others. 
Dr. Hatcher when asked regarding his own humor said: 

"If there is anything in me that has to do with humor it can 
hardly be inherent and at best is nothing more than a very 



118 HUMOR AND FUN 

limited capacity for discovering the humors of outside situations. 
There is no enginery within me for manufacturing humor and 
if it is at all proper to mention humor and me the same day, it 
must be because I have a scant and unlocated gift for discover- 
ing those conjunctions in human affairs which titulate the 
people and call forth their laughter. This I say not at all as an 
expert but as a man who does not live in sight of the humorous 
side of mundane affairs." 

"The first time I ever saw Dr. Hatcher" says Rev. Peyton 

Little "I was sitting by him at the Association 

near the front. A discussion had been dragging itself along and 
when the vote was called for two persons voted 'Aye' and one 
big fellow thundered out gruffly, 'No.' Dr. Hatcher turned to 
me, a boy sitting by him, and said 'Two eyes and one nose; 
and the nose bigger than the eyes.' 

He eschewed stock jokes. His humor was born of the 
occasion and leaped from his lips apparently without effort on 
his part. "His spirit of fun and humor" says Dr. Charles 
Herndon" flowed with the abundance and refreshment of a 
clear sparkling spring" and Dr. Hudnall declared that it 
was "spontaneous, irrepressible and inexhaustible." 

He had a horror of lugging in a joke simply that the joke 
might be put on dress parade or to advertize his skill as a 
joke maker. His humor was an after-thought, or an incident 
and often sprang upon the scene while he was intent on some 
important mission. He once wrote: 

"I utterly abhor fun for fun's sake, except in dealing with 
children. To please them, to give them jolly surprises, to hear 
their rippling laughter, I have always been ready to sing a song, 
act a charade, play a prank or even crack a joke, but I fall out 
with myself utterly when I have been betrayed into exhibiting 
myself in a burlesquing or ludicrous way for grown up people. 
When I do intentionally make people laugh it is always with 
a serious purpose. ■ If I have a collection to take and my crowd 
is restive, unresponsive or in any way hard to handle I may 
purposely bring on a laugh. Not, however, by a stock story, 
or any old expedient laid away for such purposes, but by some 
playful commentary on the immediate situation." 



HUMOR 119 

He was at a country church at a business meeting one day 
when the members were discussing the advisability of moving 
the church building out on the road. 

There were two of the members who were violently opposed 
to the movement and with solemn wagging of their heads they 
declared "Brethren; I tell you, you had better not press this 
matter of moving this building. If you do I warn you it will 
split the church". Dr. Hatcher who was an interested visitor 
and friend of the church and who strongly favored moving the 
building arose and said: 

"Brethren, Brother and Brother de- 
clare that the pressing of this matter will split the church. I 
think you need not be alarmed on that point. The fact is the 
devil has been trying to split this church for many years and 
all that he has ever been able to do has been to knock off a few 
splinters." 

I gathered the idea in some way that his early reading of 
Dickens stimulated, or discovered for him to some extent, 
his humorous propensities. At any rate I know that he reveled 
in that author in his youthful days. His humor would break 
out in the social circle, in his public addresses and some- 
times even in his sermons, — but always as incidental to the 
main proceeding. It would ripple and sparkle and, as related 
to the drift of his speech, it would seem inevitable. Truly has 
some one called humor the "saving sense", for by his use of it he 
saved many a situation — in public meetings and in the social 
circle — from disaster and it was his ability to see the bright and 
humorous side of situations that carried him through many a 
strain. The great writers seem fond of giving high praise to 
"humor". Coleridge declares that men of humor are always 
in some degree men of genius and Tennyson says: 

"I dare not tell how high I rate humor, which is generally most 
fruitful in the highest and most solemn human spirits. Dante 
is full of it; Cervantes and almost all the greatest men have been 






120 WIT 

pregnant with this glorious power. You will find it even in the 
gospel of Christ,." 

But with his humor was linked his wit. Wit seems to be 
strictly a product of the intellect while humor "issues not more 
from head than heart and issues not in laughter but in smiles." 
Dr. Sam Johnson declares that "wit is a discovery of occult 
resemblances in things apparently unlike." Humor perceives 
things in their odd relations. Wit brings to light things that 
are alike — but which to the superficial eye seem to have no 
likeness whatever. For example here are two objects, or ideas, 
lying visible to the casual eye and apparently with no similarity 
between them, when lo, a speaker with keen gaze looks under- 
neath them, sees further down than the other observers and per- 
ceives some common and striking features binding them together 
and he flashes these resemblances upon the observer and he is 
called a wit. "Wit is the flower of the imagination" and truly 
it requires imagination to build up hidden resemblances and 
paint them so that others can easily see them. ' 'Wit and humor" 
says Cervantes "belong to genius alone." Dr. Hatcher's wit 
would flash and sometimes would cut like a knife. 

At one of the Conventions he began to take a collection for 
some worthy cause. A preacher interrupted him by calling out: 

"Dr. Hatcher; I also have a very needy object for which an 

offering ought to be made. It is for the X . I suggest 

that you combine that with yours and take the two together." 

"I hardly think we had better attempt that now; let us 
finish one at a time" said Dr. Hatcher who then proceeded 
with his call for subscriptions. In a few minutes the brother 
called out again "Dr. Hatcher — I think we had better combine 
these two objects. If you will do this I will give five dollars 
and there are others around me who will do the same. Why 
not combine- the two?" "I think we had better continue as we 
have started" said Dr. Hatcher and the collection made another 
start and was moving well when the irrepressible brother inter- 
rupted again. 



1 



WIT AND HUMOR 121 

"Dr. Hatcher, I think you are making a mistake. I feel 
sure you will get more — if — " 

"Dr. Hatcher" called out a man "why don't you knock that 
fellow's brains out." 

"I would if I only knew where to hit him" quickly replied 
Dr. Hatcher. 

Some one has thus compared wit and humor: "Wit, bright, 
rapid and blasting as the lightning, flashes, strikes and van- 
ishes in an instant; humor warm and all embracing as the 
sunshine bathes its objects in a general and abiding 
light." 

It was in the social circle that his wit and humor found their 
most delightful expression. "I was present at a dinner" said 
Dr. P .T. Hale "in Richmond when the host became so con- 
vulsed with laughter at one of Dr. Hatcher's stories that he 
was compelled to leave the room, choking with uncontrollable 
merriment". His humorous stories, like his pulpit illustrations, 
were in nearly every case the recital of incidents in his own 
experience. 

He was mortally afraid of being dubbed a fun maker. Even 
as a boy he had scant pity for the youth who in company 
sought to be funny. He once referred to those people who 
"are forever trying to say funny things. They load them- 
selves with anecdotes. They study mimicry. They watch for 
the ludicrous side of things." 

Dr. P. T. Hale says that at the Southern Baptist Convention 

in Waco, Texas "Dr. C announced that Dr. William E. 

Hatcher of Virginia the greatest wit in the Convention would 
immediately preach in a neighboring church. Dr. Hatcher 

declined to leave the building until Dr. C had changed 

the wording of his announcement and simply spoke of him as a 
minister of Christ." Dr. Hale adds: "He might have surpassed 
Mark Twain as an author of humorous works. On the con- 
trary he desired to be known simply as a preacher of the Gospel 
of Christ." 



122 BEING FUNNY 

"Nothing is more loathesome" says Dr. Hatcher "than the 
trade of the fun maker. The professional jester is a bore. We 
get drowsy in the company of a man who is constantly seeking 
to make us laugh. We enjoy Mark Twain in a paragraph but 
we despise him in a book. A single proverb of Josh Billings 
tickles us to the core but a string of them becomes stale and 
sickening to us. He who in trying to do some worthy act 
says a bright thing and surprises us into a laugh has our 
respect and gratitude; but if he opens on us with his picked 
jests and pointless puns with the idea that he can convulse 
us with laughter we get mad on the spot. We refuse to be 
used for any such purpose. 

"1. We must not be funny at the expense of sacred things. 

''2. We must not be funny at the expense of decency. 

"3. We must not be funny at the expense of charity. 

"4. We must not permit our fun to run to excess." 

Amid his pressing duties he wrote a letter to Mr. R. B. 
Garrett on the "Call to the Ministry." Mr. Garrett— now Dr. 
R. B. Garrett the honored pastor of the Court Street Church in 
Portsmouth, Va. — in sending the letter for use in this biography 
says: 

"This letter from your father was the first counsel I ever had 
in helping me to decide on my life's work and it had much to do 
with my decision. It is so clear and strong that it might help 
others who are struggling as I was." 

"Richmond, Va., Sept. 26th, 1876. 
"Mr. R. B. Garrett, 
"MyDearBro: 

"It is not easy to define a call to the ministry, but I say gener- 
ally that it is a persuasion that God has chosen us to preach the 
Gospel. We may have many doubts about it — feel too feeble 
for so mighty a work and be oppressed with a sense of our own 
inefficiency and yet with all this have a conviction abiding 
and deepening that we must preach. In some cases there is a 
feeling of duty without any desire to preach; in others there is 
a desire to preach without a satisfactory sense of duty and in 
others yet there is the double sense of duty and desire. Some 
men are driven into the ministry under the whip of conscience 



CALL TO THE MINISTRY 123 

and at the expense of cherished worldly purposes; others are 
floated into it on the current of their love and zeal for Christ. 
The former preach because they must; the latter because they 
would. Where this desire to preach exists, it must spring from 
a proper motive — that is, not from a selfish ambition but from 
a wish to glorify God. If a young man desires to devote himself 
to the service of the Lord and feels convinced after prayerful 
investigation that he can be more useful by preaching than in 
any other way then I would say that he is called to preach. 

"I believe in a call to the ministry — a divine call; but not 
that it is sent under startling or miraculous circumstances. 
It is the call of the Spirit of God in the heart, not audible not 
suddenly given but gently and gradually stamping the impress 
of duty upon the soul. 

"This call to duty is made manifest to us in different ways — 
to some by such consciousness of duty as cannot be questioned; 
to others by a restless anxiety which weans them from other 
things and slowly turns them to their work; to others by outside 
influences such as the opinions and counsels of brethren. It 
happens often, though not always, that others will discover a 
young man's suitableness for the ministry before he sees it 
himself. 

"There are certain actual qualities which a man who is to 
preach should have and without which he need not think 
himself chosen for the work. He must have a capacity and 
fondness for study — an aptness to teach and some talent for 
public speaking, though he will not always be the best judge 
about these gifts, but should seek counsel from others. He 
must not feel that he is good, for none of us are good but he must 
have real faith in Jesus, warm zeal for his glory, tender love 
for human souls and a readiness to consecrate his heart and 
hands to the work of God. 

"I must not judge for you in this matter. It is a question 
between you and your Savior and you must settle it. If I were 
to judge from your letter I would say that God is working on 
your heart to bring you into the ministry. Is not this your 
conviction on the subject. If you feel so then I counsel you to 
turn aside from other matters and prepare for your life's work. 
I pray that God will guide you into the way of duty. I will be 
happy to hear from you again. 

"Your brother in Jesus 

"W. E. Hatcher." 



124 SERMONS PREACHED 

On Nov. 26th of this year he preached on "The Fellowship 
of Christ's Sufferings. Philippians 3:10. I. The Fellowship 
of Christ. II. The Fellowship of Christ's Sufferings. III. The 
Knowledge of this Fellowship." On Dec. 30th he preached on 
"Christ's Witnesses. Acts 1:8. I. The Issue, — the Resur- 
rection of Christ. II. The Court. III. The Character of the 
Witnesses". His days were crowded with toil and often with 
travel into different parts of the state. 



CHAPTER XII. 

1877-1878. 

INTEREST IN YOUNG PREACHERS. PASTORAL VISITING. CAREFUL- 
NESS IN PREPARING PUBLIC ADDRESSES. DAILY SCHEDULE. 

Richmond College occupied a large place in his ministry. 
A new student would not be on the Campus long without 
learning that down at the Grace Street Church was a pastor 
who was not only a great friend to the College boys but also 
a preacher whom the students delighted to hear. The minis- 
terial students especially turned to him for sympathy and 
counsel and flocked to his preaching. 

"When I first went to Richmond College a green country boy" 
says Dr. J. J. Taylor "he was very kind to me. Through all 
the succeeding years. ... in many ways I have made 
him my ideal." 

"The second year I was in Richmond College writes Rev. J. 
J. Wicker "a man from down South was accused of cheating 
on examination. It was a dark time for him and there was an 
agitated inquiry as to his guilt or innocence. He was finally 
expelled. Now this young man happened to be a ministerial 
student and the cloud over his life seemed to shut out every 
ray of hope. A number of young men were gathered together 
discussing the case and wondering if anything could be done 
for him. 

"They finally reached a conclusion with out any leader in the 
discussion. It seemed to break upon them all at once that 
there was one man in Richmond who would help a man who 
was wounded and in distress and they said with one accord 
'There is one man who we know will help him and that man is 
Dr. William E. Hatcher' and he did. The young man has arisen 
again and is one of the most devoted pastors in a far Southern 
State." 

125 



126 DEALING WITH YOUNG MEN 

He was president of the Education Board at the College, — 
a Board which aided young preachers in their education at 
the College and this fact brought him into helpful relations 
with nearly all the ministerial students. In writing of Dr. 
Hatcher's kindness to him at the beginning of his College 
career Dr. M. L. Wood says: "In my examination before the 
Education Board of which you know he was president for so 
long, he frightened me greatly by asking me to parse the 
sentence The horse ran down the hill and broke the chaise.' " 
I heard him tell of an amusing incident that occured one day 
at a meeting of the Board. One of the students was being ques- 
tioned as to his ministerial call when one of the members of the 
Board — a member of the Faculty — said in somewhat solemn, 
earnest tones: "My young brother do you feel that you can say 
with the Apostle Paul: Til be damned if I do not preach the 
gospel?' " It is hardly surprising that the young brother's 
answer was seriously interrupted by the explosion of laughter 
that broke upon the head of the innocent and startled profes- 
sor. It is hoped that the candidate convinced the Board of 
his sense of obligation to preach even though he was not able 
to express his purpose in the language suggested by the pro- 
fessor. 

Dr. Hatcher's helpfulness to young men did not stop with 
Richmond College or Richmond City. 

Rev. W. H. Baylor writes: 

"When I was a boy of eleven years Dr. Wm E.. Hatcher 
of Richmond, Va., came into our home and singled me out as 
his favorite. Putting his hand on my head, he said, 'This boy 
is going to be a preacher.' During this and several subsequent 
visits I was constantly with him, and he would talk to me about 
preaching. Through him, God called me into the ministry." 

It was my privilege recently to preach for Mr. Baylor and I 
can never forget the burning intensity with which he told his 
congregation of what Dr. Hatcher had been to him. His heart 
poured itself out in a fulness of affectionate appreciation that 



YOUNG PREACHERS 127 

startled me and that gave me a new realization of how deeply 
and profoundly his influence could be wrought into young men. 

"No man of my acquaintance" said Rev. R. P. Rixey "has 
touched more deeply my life in all things spiritual than Dr. 
William E. Hatcher." His passion for helpfulness seemed a 
second nature with him. In the case of young preachers the 
recollection of his own stumblings and struggles at the gateway 
of his ministry seemed to kindle his heart into sympathy for 
them. "One of the finest things about him" says Dr. Geo. B. 
Taylor "was his love and fellowship for his younger brethren in 
the ministry." His helpfulness did not wear the garb of com- 
pliments nor mere aimiable and friendly words. His eye would 
strike for the center of the young man's needs and possibilities. 
Sometimes it was a fatherly criticism that was needed, — or even 
reproof; sometimes a tender inquiry about his history or con- 
dition, oft times a word of light and cheer and inspiration. For 
the young fellow who clung to his vain conceit or the youth who 
insisted on being a fool or a crank he stood dumb-founded and 
would sometimes turn away in despair. 

There were few Summers in his life from this time forth that 
he did not find himself in the North speaking at some denomi- 
national gathering, or preaching in one of the churches. In 
May he spoke in Boston and also at the Baptist Anniver- 
saries in Providence. 

He welcomed his Summer vacation because it meant for him 
the chance to take to the woods, — not for frolic with gun or fish- 
ing rod, nor for cultivating the acquaintance of hammocks or 
the green grass, but for the hardest and the most fascinating toil 
to him — that of holding protracted meetings with the country 
churches, and attending country district Associations. 

"We bless the Lord" he said "for ten thousand things and 
one of the most delightful of them is that we do not have to 
rest during August. The seaside is lovely, the Springs charming, 
the mountains sublime, the country cousins famous for domes- 
tic comforts and sweet welcome, but better far than this is 
the fellowship and rapture of the Association and the saving 



128 PASTORAL VISITING 

glorious revival. We were put in cold storage in former years 
with a view to the preservation of our pastoral parts but when 
we were taken out and shipped home in September the autum- 
nal heats played wreck with our newly acquired tender- 
ness." 

Some men love the country for the beauties of nature, but 
the most attractive sight the country could afford him was its 
people — so simple, so open hearted, so responsive and so true. 
Every Fall after his return to Richmond from his summer 
travels he would begin his ' 'grand round" of visiting when he 
would seek to call upon every family of his church. It meant 
a continuous tramp, day by day, ringing door bells and en- 
countering experiences that were sometimes as rough as they 
were varied. But the charm of it was that he sprang to it 
with a happy bound and a joyful relish. Concerning the 
pastoral visit he writes: 

"Here are two ministers, both pastors. One of them has a 
crotchet against the pastoral visit. He declares that it is a 
waste of existence to go poddering after vapid old women, 
cajoling heartless misers, or effervescing over unsoaped children. 
He contends that it interferes with his sermon, retards his 
intellectual pursuits and takes the edge off his genius. It 
irritates him to go, depresses him to get there, and worries 
him to know what to say when he arrives. 

"The other man is not so. To begin with he loves people — 
loves them by nature and by grace — loves his own especially — 
loves to see them — enjoys talking to them — grieves to tear 
away from them. 

"Now start these two men forth to pay the visit. The first 
goes like the oft mentioned "scourged slave." He starts in a 
fret, dreads the meeting, grows dull and awkward as he enters, 
drags in the talk, embarrasses the lady, and leaves as if escaping 
from a burning ship. Write it at the top of your journal that 
a visit like that will unsettle a pastor if repeated twice. Some 
pastors may be dislodged for not visiting, but the man will 
lose his place sooner or later on account of his visits. A grudging 
visit will electioneer against a pastor. 

"But take the other man — let him go out on his visit. 
They will know his knock or his ring. Mother and children 



PASTORAL VISITING 129 

will come tumbling and dashing out to meet him with a wel- 
coming smile. At sight of him happy talk will begin to run. 
First pleasantries will nutter like lighting birds and then serious 
things — the church, the home troubles, the absent children, 
and the kingdom of God will all get a mention — the Bible will 
be opened — a tender prayer, and then the good man is gone. 
No, not exactly gone: he is followed out into the hall, all talking 
as they go, encounters a loving hold-up at the door and a fire 
of kindly words rattle after him as he goes rapidly away. Ah, 
no; he never goes away. His light shines there day and night. 
The aroma of his visit lingers in the house. When the good 
man comes home at night, all of it is gone over again, and each 
member of the household grips more tightly into the life of the 
pastor. That is a visit which cements the union and makes 
it easy* and delightful for the pastor to stay as long as he will. 
"Ye, proud and high-stalking men, who scoff at the visit, 
take a word of counsel. It may do you good. If you are averse 
to personal contact with your people, if you shrink from com- 
panionship with them, if you hate the visit, then get ready to 
move. You cannot stay unless you visit, and if you hate the 
visit which you make, keep your grip-sack packed and be ready 
upon notice to move on. The end is near at hand." 

It would have been impossible to say which held a higher 
place with him. — the pastoral visit or the sermon. He said 
on one occasion: "The sermon and the visit are twins, inher- 
ently congenial and complementary one of the other." 

At the end of the year on Dec. 30th he preached on the 
"The unchanging God" (Mai. 3; 6.). He began by saying, "We 
stand to-day on the crumbling edge of the old year"; and 
he spoke of God as changeless in being, character and 
purpose. 

One of his marked traits was his respect for his public en- 
gagements. He was invited to speak at the ordination of a 
young minister, Rev. C. H. Nash at the High Hills Church in 
Sussex county. He accepted the invitation; but did he wait 
until he took the train for the ordination and then hastily 
fling together certain vagrant thoughts? He might have done 
so. It was a simple country congregation at the little High 
Hills church and, with his crowded life, why should he not 



130 ADDRESS AT ORDINATION 

have quickly improvised a suitable speech for such an occa- 
sion? 

But No. That address was a public trust. A young man was 
to be formally set apart to the work of the Gospel ministry and 
he had been asked to deliver the "Charge" to the young 
minister as he stood on the threshold of his ministry. It was 
certainly no trifling event in the life of Mr. Nash. Dr. Hatcher 
decided that he would seek to make it a memorable event not 
only in the career of that young man but also of that community. 

Nearly all his papers were destroyed by fire but among those 
that were in another building at the time of the fire two manu- 
scripts of the above address have been found, written in very 
neat and careful manner and if these two manuscripts bearing 
such marks of completeness have been found it suggests that 
there were probably other papers representing work which was 
preliminary to the above. It shows that he had not yet flung 
aside his practice of rewriting and of hard labor upon his lite- 
rary productions. Such drill of course consumed much of his 
time in his busy life but it paid him amply in the future and 
enabled him during the later years to speak off-hand and write 
with a fluency and literary charm that would have been impos- 
sible without this early grind and toil. 

I quote a few paragraphs from the address : 

"My Beloved Brother: I am commissioned by my brethren 
of the Presbytery to assure you of their confidence and affection 
and to charge you before God and the Lord Jesus Christ to 
wear worthily the ministerial office with which you are, to-daj^ 
formally invested 

"It is fearful to be a young preacher — to be good looking — 
to have sparkling fancy and ready speech — to be popular and 
to be counted a success. There are weak men and silly women 
to spoil and wreck young preachers. 

"It has never been my misfortune to be popular but let me 
say I have had my enthusiastic admirers — that blew my 
trumpet on the outer wall — that said I could beat them all and 
hung entranced on all that fell from my lips — until something 
fell that they did not like and then they fell — fell away, and 



A HORSE AND BUGGY 131 

some of them fell on me and if God had been as forgetful of me 
as they were they would have made me fall and fall to rise no 
more. 

"When a preacher begins to think more highly of himself than 
he ought he begins to be a fool and if you will give him time he 
will prove it. 

"Thus far I have never killed a man and humbly pray that 
such a bloody necessity may never fall on me but if I had to do 
it and could pick my man I think I should imbrue my hands in 
the blood of one of these ministerial puffs — the swelling coxcomb 
that struts the pulpit as a stage and preaches to show himself. 

"If the greatest of all preachers counted himself less than 
the least of all the saints and mourned all his days over his sins 
and imperfections; if indeed Jesus Christ himself was 'meek 
and lowly in heart' what opinion does it become us to have of 
ourselves." 

"If a man cant keep out of debt let him keep out of the 
pulpit." 

"If you ever make a man you must court solitude." 

"They only move the world whom the world cannot move." 

One day a horse and buggy arrived at his front gate. The 
buggy was new and the horse was a stranger in those parts and 
they both proved to be a gift from the Grace Street church 
to their pastor. The horse was small and black and was given 
the name of "Grace", Dr. Hatcher saying that as the street 
on which he lived was Grace and his Church was the Grace 
Street Church and that now as his horse bore the same name 
he hoped that she would indeed prove a means of Grace to him. 
She did her part nobly as the pastor's assistant though she 
varied the exercises one day. In her haste to reach the depot 
with Dr. Hatcher and Dr. John William Jones (of large build) 
in the buggy with myself jammed in between she did not cal- 
culate well the incline of the street; she went dashing around 
another vehicle that was approaching us; our buggy gave a 
circling swing and over and down the incline towards the 
gutter went the buggy with Dr. Jones on the upper side of the 
human pile and Grace lying meekly on her side. 

Saturday afternoon was his time for taking a "spin into the 



132 IN HIS STUDY 

country" — behind Grace — and nearly always he would pick 
up one of the Richmond pastors for his traveling companion 
and with few exceptions this companion would be his beloved 
McDonald while between their knees sat a happy little "scrap 
of a chap" — the son of the driver who would listen with eager 
enjoyment to their familiar chats. 

He would reach his study each morning about nine or nine- 
thirty o'clock and to him that room was a haven of delight 
and yet no busy pastor ever threw open his study door with a 
gladder welcome for the visitor than did he. He had no tricks 
for quickly disposing of the long winded brother. Nothing 
was so interesting to him as people and he gave them a royal 
hearing. 

"I tried several times" said his wife "to get him to have cer- 
tain hours to see visitors, but he would always say; 'No; my 
door must always stand open lest someone be turned away 
whom I ought to help' He said his best rest came by going out 
into the country every Friday or Saturday." 

His open door policy sometimes brought him hopeless 
interruption but even in such cases he would often extract 
some gleams of humor. One morning just as he was getting 
well settled in his work in came a visitor. 

"He was a strapping burly fellow in the bloom of youth and 
would have weighed well nigh 200 pounds. He informed us 
that he was a blacksmith by trade but had determined to bid 
adieu to the anvil and try his fortune as a book agent. He 
pleasantly hinted at the greatness of our reputation and in- 
fluence and requested us to 'prescribe' for the 'Light of all 
Nations'. We told him modestly that the influence of our 
name was a myth and that financially we were trembling over 
the abyss. We asked him to excuse us but his brow already 
beaded with perspiration grew grim with dissatisfaction. 

"He told us that he never expected to meet such a repulse 
at our hands. He said that our name would bring many pur- 
chasers to his side and that if we refused to give it the conse- 
quences would be bad for him. Once more we asked him to 
excuse us but he said the book was cheap, — less than four 
dollars if we would take the book with the paper board binding 



DAILY SCHEDULE 133 

and he really thought that we might spend that much just to 
encourage a young man. We told him that we were fond of 
young men and delighted to see them encouraged. We begged 
him to be encouraged in an independent way and not to look 
entirely to us for it. We suggested that we could not quite 
afford to spend four dollars for a book that we did not need 
even though in doing so we might add to his encouragement. 
He looked at us in a confused and bitter way and said 'Then 
you mean to say that you will not prescribe'. We begged him 
to feel friendly to us, not to cherish revenge and not to fall out 
with the world. He said it was hard to bear and that he knew 
not where to go next but that he would strive to meet his 
troubles as became a man and so we parted, or at least we 
thought we had parted; but when he got to the door he paused 
and sorrowfully asked: 'Is your mind made up not to prescribe'. 
We told him that our intellectual machinery was a little dis- 
jointed but that as far as we understood the case we thought 
it was a foregone conclusion that we would not prescribe and 
then the stairway fairly trembled beneath his sluggish tread 
as he went out." 



At 1 1 :30 he would close his study, go across the street to his 
buggy which Uncle Davy, the Sexton, would always have ready 
for him tied at the accustomed tree and "Grace" would 
go trotting off with him on his visiting rounds which would 
usually last until three o'clock when he would arrive at home 
in time for his ten minutes nap on the couch in the sitting 
room, where his sleeping would often, though not always, 
advertize its progress by vigorous snoring. That nap was a 
miracle worker. He could fall asleep almost immediately 
upon closing his eyes and at the end he would arise with mind 
and body rejuvenated. "Blessings light on him that invented 
sleep" says Cervantes "It covers a man all over, — thoughts 
and all like a cloak." Happily has sleep been styled "nature's 
soft nurse." Dr. John A. Broadus used to tell the story of Dr. 
Smith and another professor at the University of Virginia 
being seated one day in a room together engaged in some literary 
employment when one of them exclaimed with a sigh as he 
found himself nodding over his work: "Oh my! I am such a 



134 DAILY SCHEDULE 

sleepy head and I have so much important labor yet ahead of 
me." 

The other professor clapped his hands quite vigorously. 
"What is that for?" asked the other. "Why I am so glad that 
you do fall to sleep for now I know that you will never kill 
yourself working." Dr. Hatcher would often come into the 
house greatly fatigued and it was undoubtedly his ability to 
drop into a quick slumber that enabled him to keep his vitality 
at high level and that postponed the date of his death. Old 
Dr. Sam Johnson said "I never take a nap after dinner except 
when I have had a bad night and then the nap takes me." 
Dr. Hatcher's naps always seemed to "take him" though they 
very rarely waited until after dinner before pouncing upon him. 

Sometimes he would return home by two o'clock and call 
for his wife who would go to his desk and for an hour act as his 
amanuensis as he walked up and down the room dictating some 
address or article for a newspaper or letters to people. In the 
meantime the children were piling in from school and the 
dinner bell would rally the family around the table in the 
dining room at 3:15 o'clock. 

In the afternoon he would take his recreation, which generally 
meant a game of croquet at the College. 

After supper, — -what would it be? — a prayer meeting — or 
a church meeting — or a deacons meeting, — or a Society meet- 
ing — or some social gathering — or possibly a lecture on Church 
Hill — or a sermon at Venable Street — or an address at Pine 
Street — or an ordination sermon at the Second Church — Who 
can recount the uncountable engagements that block the way 
of a city pastor from his supper to his slumbers. A "City 
Pastor's Evenings" — what a story they would tell. As a rule 
he would return home at night about 9:30 or 10 P. M. for a 
two hour's toil at his desk by the window in the front second 
story room. Here he would write while the family were 
gathered around the fire and ofTtimes the group was enlarged 
by the presence of visitors who had "dropped in" after the 
meeting or who were spending the evening. It was amid such 



DAILY SCHEDULE 135 

clatter that he would do his writing; while they talked his pen 
would be busily picking its way across the page and every now 
and then he would interject a question, or some side remark 
into the conversation, thus showing that if his eye was fol- 
lowing his pen, his ear was following the talk. His mind was 
alert to what was going on around him. "But Doctor" one 
of the visitors would say "how can you write in the midst of 
our noise?" "I like it" he would say "talk on; it helps me to 
think. It is when you stop talking that I stop." Such self 
control was one of his hard won victories. Often in company 
with boys or grown people, he would call out to them: "Talk", 
or "Tell me something" and he would listen keenly and with 
appreciation. 

His late working hours at night made him also a late riser, — 
though he generally reached his study between 9 and 9 :30 every 
morning. One morning a carpenter, one of his members, came 
to fix one of the closets in the bed room. He arrived at about 
eight o'clock and was informed that it was too early for him to 
do the work, that Dr. Hatcher was not awake. "What; not 
awake yet?" he said with an almost horrified expression. 
"No" said Mrs. Hatcher. "You must remember you work in 
the day and he works much in the night," and she might have 
added "as well as in the day." 

Until he was an old man he usually averaged eight hours 
sleep. It ought to be mentioned that his first act each morning 
was to call for the "Richmond Dispatch" which he would read 
in bed. A few years later it was his custom, after reading his 
morning paper, to give the signal to his two youngest daughters 
Elizabeth and Edith and they would come bouncing in for a 
fruit feast in bed. Many were the mornings that I would run 
down to Phillips' store to buy a bag of fruit for the three 
feasters. What chattering and discussing they would have and 
what stories they would tell as they made the bananas and 
peaches disappear until the first bell would bring their happy 
clatter to an end and summon them out of bed and off to their 
dressing and a few minutes later the rattle in the dining room 



136 DAILY SCHEDULE 

would announce the arrival of the family for breakfast. Of course 
his schedule for the day often suffered shipwreck under the 
storms of duties that raged around him. Trips out of the city, 
funerals and other engagements would frequently play havoc 
with his daily programme and sometimes the calls for his services 
would be so numerous that he would be bewildered in choosing 
between them. 

"I was often told in my callow days" said he "that there 
could be no possible conflict of duties and I believed it and am 
trying to believe it yet. Possibly somewhere in the unf athomed 
underground there is a central station into which all duties 
run, arriving on time and never causing delays and never having 
collisions. But when these claims tumble out in scores and 
rush upon the startled and overtaxed pastor they give no note 
of harmony. Their riot and clash are the storm center of his 
existence. 

"Before his head leaves his pillow in the morning his books, 
letters, funerals, visits, sermons unmade, company, dinners, 
duns, beggars, broken gates, marketing, — Ah, things innumer- 
able and unconceived assail him with demoniacal fury. 

"Now as far as possible he must with the best intention 
schedule his life to meet all reasonable demands and upon every 
performance there must be the stamp of thoroughness and 
fidelity. The only disposition to be made of a duty is to do it 
well and on time and say nothing about it." 

The Herald in its report of the meeting of the Portsmouth 
Association in June said: "Dr. W. E. Hatcher stated that he was 
endeavoring to secure work for the young men of Richmond 
College and wished to hear from the ministers present during 
the session." 

He writes on June 19th to his wife who was at Old Point: 

"My Dear Jennie: 

"The most that I can say of yesterday is that it was a most 
tremendously rainy day. The morning was spent in my study 
with Dunnaway. At 12 M I went to the Alumni meeting and 
was the third time made president; had a quiet dinner with 
the children. At dinner I got a card saying that Bettie would 
be over at 3 1-2 o'clock. I jumped in the buggy and put off to 
the depot where I found her. 



LETTERS TO HIS WIFE 137 

"The children are getting on well. They are to have a black- 
berry roll today and a chicken pie. Whiteley (a Methodist 
Minister) is to dine with us. 

"Yours 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

On the 22nd he writes again to his wife: 

"My Dear Jennie: 

"This is Saturday morning and I am far behind in my pre- 
paration for to-morrow. Mrs. Hallowell gave the children a 
"breaking up party." They invited Kate, but she had "nothing 
to wear" as she said. Matters at home move on better than I 
expected. Orie is attentive, energetic and thoughtful and Nancy 
does far better than I expected. Kate is quiet and seems the 
most contented of all. Eldridge is as wild and romping as pos- 
sible but very obliging. He does all that I tell him and very 
cheerfully — except when he forgets it. Give my warm regards 

to the friends who are with you. Tell old sister T that 

it is reported that she was figuring very handsomely in the ball 
room on Thursday night but I am sure that she will do the 
correct thing in all respects." 

He writes on September 13th to his wife: 

"Dear Jennie: 

"I am quietly at work. For some cause there was not a 
quorum of deacons and hence no meeting. I have approached 
some few on the subject of reducing my salary and they think 
it will be necessary. 

"My people are unusually cordial with me and my purpose 
is to work my best this season and in every way advance the 
interests of the church. I find myself in for a lecture in New 
Kent and am bothered about it. It is Tuesday 17th. 

"I have two of my folks to bury to-day, one this morning — ■ 
one now. "Yours 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

1879-1880. 

BALTIMORE VISIT. FONDNESS FOR GAMES. HOSPITALITY. 
ADDRESS ON DR. JETER. 

In January of this year, 1879, he held at the Eutav/ Place 
church in Baltimore a revival meeting which was rich in spirit- 
ual fruit but the outstanding feature of the visit for him was his 
meeting with Mr. Moody, the world renowned evangelist. 
Nothing was ever so interesting to him as a human being and 
when the particular "human" whom he was to meet was such a 
personality as the above preacher it meant a high day for him. 
He saw deeply into men and what he saw in Mr. Moody 
thrilled and delighted him. Concerning Mr. Moody he said: 

"On the night of my arrival, Dr. Kerfoot told me that 
several ministers were to meet Mr. Moody privately the next 
morning, and that he had arranged for me to be in the company. 
This, of course, was a delightful surprise and privilege to me. 
There were about a dozen, possibly a few more, ministers 
present, having been assembled in a quiet room at the Y. M. C. 
A. Hall. Asking for silence, Moody said, in substance: 'My 
brethren, I called you here because I need you. I find my 
strength small in this city. My spirit is bound, and I cannot 
rise. I brought you here to ask you to pray for me. Pray 
that I may have liberty and do my work in Baltimore.' By a 
common impulse, all sank to their knees, and for a time, of 
which not one took note, there was constant crying. One after 
another led, until each one had prayed aloud, some possibly 
more -than once. It was a fervent and thrilling meeting, but I 
recall no prayer except that offered by Moody. That was 
burned into the very tissue of my being — a revelation of the 

138 



BALTIMORE MEETINGS 139 

most earnest man that I had ever touched and, after the 
service ceased, I almost imagined that Moody had really been 
glorified. He shook Baltimore that winter." 

Soon after his return to Richmond he said to his wife : "Eutaw 
Place Church gave me $200 and I shall use it for fixing up a 
"preachers' room in the house." He made a rule about the 
room that no one — be he king or pope — except a preacher or a 
preacher's wife should ever sleep in that room. This became 
as the law of the Medes and Persians, — which could not be 
broken But we will let him tell of his Baltimore visit. The fol- 
lowing letter which he wrote to his cherished friend, Dr. Thomas 
Pritchard of Raleigh was published in the Recorder and in the 
Herald: 

"I am just a few days out of Baltimore after a stay and work 
there of three weeks. It was one of the most delightful of the 
many bright and happy experiences that God has given me in 
this world. 

"One more thing about myself. When I left Baltimore I 
found a $200 check in my hand given me by the Eutaw Place 
brethren. It somewhat embarrassed me, almost as much as the 
want of such a treasure has sometimes done. The money 
seemed a sacred thing — a part of the sentiment and glory that 
had invested my soul during my visit. After reflection I resolved 
that it should not be spent for casual or common things. I 
took it and furnished my rear parlor as a 'preacher's room.' 
As long as I live and am able that room shall be for a resting 
place for the Lord's angels and a remembrance of Baltimore. 
We are now busy in arranging all the ornaments and trimmings 
that we can afford for rendering it cosy, inviting and beautiful. 
When finished I must dedicate it and greatly wish 'my own 
friends' might be present to take part in the hospitable exer- 
cises. It is to be known as 'Eutaw Place'. I could have no 
greater joy in it all than to have you to be the first to sleep in 
it. 

"I saw the Baltimore preachers. Williams grows to be 
venerable for want of some older man to do that for him. Ker- 
foot is a bundle of nervous fury and if he explodes his fury 
against anything it has to go. . . . 

"Dr. Franklin Wilson is one of Heaven's best. I look at 
him and blush that I am not a better man. 



140 LOVE FOR GAMES 

"Moody impressed me to the very bottom of my nature. 
He is a man of God. He is honest, gentle and wise — three 
elements almost making a man perfect." 

The room back of the parlor was selected for the preachers' 
room and with its new equipment was transformed into the 
most beautiful room in the house. All its furnishings and 
decorations, as far as possible, were of blue and after awhile 
it came to be known in the family as the "Blue Room". When 
the room was completed it was publicly dedicated, Rev. Dr. 
T. T. Eaton of Petersburg making the dedicatory speech 

There was one saving clause in his straining life. It was 
his love of games. His nature clamored for them and never 
ceased its clamor during his life. If we burrow down into 
his soul for an explanation of his fondness for games we find 
it, I believe, in his love of contest and of victory. The instinct 
for games seems universal and during the centuries has ex- 
pressed itself in many forms, national as well as individual. 
For games that have in them simply the "play" element — so 
congenial and attractive to children he cared nothing. It was 
the clash and struggle in games that attracted him. He was 
the child's friend but he would never romp and frolic with them 
in any meaningless noises or movements. He could not play 
games with them in that sense. But in games of encounter 
where brain and daring were called into play he was ready at 
first call and the hours in such games which he spent with 
children — especially in his later life — would if counted run up 
into surprisingly high figures. 

His love for contest showed itself often in his intercourse 
with men. He did not like for people blandly to agree with 
him. He enjoyed the bristle of a controversy. Conflict rather 
than compliance on the part of another waked his powers to 
their best 

His favorite game was Croquet and everybody knew that 
if Dr. Hatcher was wanted in the afternoon he could be found 
at Richmond College on the Croquet ground. He entered 
into the contest with an ardor that would do credit to a base- 



CROQUET 141 

ball enthusiast of today. During the game he would be oblivious 
of the outside world. All his mental forces were concentrated 
on the struggle; he wanted victory. He threw himself into the 
game with a perfect abandon, suffered anxieties and disap- 
pointments when defeat threatened him, pressed his antagonist 
harder than ever and shouted his glee when victory perched 
upon his banners. How often after a straining game that had 
kept him alternating between hope and fear up to the very end, 
but which closed with a stroke that gave him the victory, his 
long tension would give way to exultation and his happy 
shouts could be heard from one end of the campus to the other 
and everybody when they heard it knew what it meant. "Dr. 
Hatcher has won" they would say. 

For a year or more Prof. Harris' yard was the play ground. 
Every afternoon my father and I would drive to the College 
for the game. As we entered Prof. Harris' yard and came under 
his study window my father would cry out "Harris" "Harris" 
and out from the window would come the reply "All right — 
in a moment." The professor's papers would be laid aside and 
soon the contest would begin and for an hour or two we would 
be at it. Back and forth the tide of battle would swing, for 
Prof. Harris and Dr. Hatcher were croquet experts, — not so 
much in the simple art of being able to send the ball straight 
to the desired mark but in the more important matter of 
planning and plotting for victory. Sometimes dark would 
overtake us in the game but it was regarded not. Handerchiefs 
were hung on the wickets and were held over the balls. Dark- 
ness would settle on the yard but still each side pushed on 
in the hope of being the winner while a light of some kind was 
held over the target; — and when the end came it was a shouting 
climax. 

Ofttimes the games were played out on the College campus. 
His croquet playing with the students linked itself helpfully 
into their lives. 

The games often drew spectators who became interested 
in watching Dr. Hatcher not only in his plays but in his enjoy- 



142 CROQUET 

ments and in his disappointments, in his groans and in his 
shouts. He was so real, so truly himself that he was naturally 
interesting and instructive. Rev. H. W. Williams, an old 
Richmond College student and now an honored pastor in 
Georgia thus wrote in the Herald regarding Dr. Hatcher on the 
Croquet ground: 

"Soon after my arrival at Richmond College I met the man 
who had inspired the ambition which had brought me there. 
It was on the croquet grounds of the campus and we engaged in 
a game together. This was the first of many games we played 
together. In my ear is ringing to-day with perfect distinctness 
the voice of Dr. Hatcher as he many times stood beneath my 
window calling: 'Williams, Williams, come out of there and 
lets have a game.' My life was considerably influenced by 
things that happened on those grounds when Dr. Hatcher 
was playing. I remember hearing him say one time : 'No man 
ought to be permitted to preach who will cheat in a game of 
croquet. ' Some years afterwards he told me of his voting 
against the election of a man to an important position because 
he remembered that he used to cheat in that game on the 
College campus. I am sure that my life is different from what 
it would have been if I had never engaged with Dr. W. E. 
Hatcher in those games." Another student Rev. J. W. Wildman 
writes: "I was inclined to neglect exercise and necessary play. 
But almost every afternoon when he [Dr. Hatcher] had at- 
tended to pressing pastoral work he drove out to the 
College to play croquet with Prof. Harris. His example 
coupled with the vast amount of church work which he did 
was a convincing argument as to the value of recreation." 

Later on in his life another game seemed to win first place 
in his favor, — the game of quoits. The probable reason was 
that croquet required so much bending of the body that as he 
approached old age he found it easier to adjust himself to the 
game of quoits. "I was pitching quoits with your father" writes 
Dr. W. W. Everts of Boston "the stakes were far apart. A 
ringer was very rare. His opponent pitched a horse shoe. As 



ALREADY ENGAGED 143 

it started Dr. Hatcher said: 'I have an impression that this 
will be a ringer.' And it was." 

He delivered the Commencement address before the Female 
College in Greenville S. C. and in his opening remarks drew an 
amusing picture. He began by announcing that everytime 
he delivered a final address before a Female College he was 
filled with a sickening sense of failure. 

"Why such an unhappy fate should always pursue me at 
such a time is quickly explained," he said. "In my early 
manhood my nervous system got a shock from which it has 
never recovered. From my youth I have had extravagant 
admiration for Female Colleges. They seemed enchanted 
ground and I fancied that within their classic domain dwelt 
all the genius, innocence, beauty and glory of womanhood. I 
nursed the manly purpose that if ever I spread my sail to the 
matrimonial wave some gifted and scholarly young sister from 
a Female Institute should go with me. My youthful ardor 
soon turned to adoration and directed itself against a certain 
bright-eyed charmer — in my eye the fairest of all God's making 
and in her eye as I too fondly fancied shone ineffable love for me. 

"The time was Sunday night and the scene of the tragedy 
was the parlor of a Female School. Though I had her alone 
and though my address was prepared and committed, when the 
crisis came my address stuck inextricably in my throat and I 
broke ruinously down before I got in sight of my best poetic 
quotations upon which I mainly depended for bringing her to 
terms. 

"To her credit be it said that by her blushing and decorous 
hesitation she helped me to an avowal. I think I can say as a 
religious man that I harbor no bitter feelings against her but 
I can never forget that gleam of coquettish villainy in her eye 
when after my lips had told their tender secret she informed 
me that she was already engaged. Tumbling myself in 
clumsy desperation from the parlor to the street and shrinking 
away into a forsaken part of the town I almost forgot my loss 
of the girl in my overwhelming shame in having broken down 
in my address. From that night I have had a powerful con- 
viction that delivering final addresses (and my first was my 
final) at Female institutes is at best an uncertain business. 
There always creeps over me the bewildering feeling that I am 
about to pop the question to an entire College of young women 
and that their inevitable reply will be 'already engaged.' " 



144 THE EDUCATED WOMAN 

His subject was the " Educated Woman." He declared that 
the educated woman was a modern institution. "The Greek 
ideal was beauty of form; the Roman was that of service. Even 
the woman of Israel, the noblest of early times, received only 
an incidental religious culture." 

He declared that woman "sees truth with the heart. She 
feels her way to her conclusions." 

He then raised the question as to why woman should be 
educated if it is her heart rather than her mind that guides 
her and "she darts to her conclusions on the wings of intuition 
and believes in its divinity?" 

He gives two reasons in reply : 

"1. A woman's intuitions are partly mental and grow better 
by cultivation. 2. The specific value of intellectual education 
is to make a woman examine her premises — both to make her 
more accurate and to prepare her to teach." 

"After all education is not to find a new sphere for a woman 
but to fit her better for the old one. A woman is pretty sure 
to think that to change a book for a broom is not in the line of 
promotion." 

"The mistakes of life spring either from ignorance or perver- 
sity." 

"The finest cookery book in the country was written by the 
most literary woman that Virginia has produced for a half 
century, Marion Harland. . . . The young woman who can 
not help her mother set the table, count the spoons, sew a 
button on her brother's clothes, fry a steak, bake a pudding, 
grind the coffee, feed the fowls or water the flowers is not 
educated. She must put her higher knowledge in use in the 
plain and humble work of the home and the church." 

In August he takes a long leap. Far out into the mountains 
of Southwest Va. he goes to attend the meeting of the Lebanon 
Association, to speak for the Education Board and to meet 
the Baptists in that picturesque, mountain country. In writing 
about his visit he said: "The first thing I did and the principal 
thing I did in Bristol was to fall in love with brother N. C. 
Baldwin." 






DEATH OF DR. JETER 145 

His visit must have carried much sunshine and cheer for the 
Lebanon saints for one of them wrote in the Herald : 

"The Education Board sent among us a man whose kind, 
open, christian face makes you love him even before you feel 
the warm grasp of his brotherly hand. Of course I mean its 
president, Dr. William E. Hatcher." 

Public collections had become a sort of second nature with 
the Grace Street church. On appointed days there were of- 
ferings taken at the morning service for Foreign Missions, for 
Home Missions, for 'State Missions and so on; and on each 
occasion he would invariably preach on the subject for the 
day and seek to kindle his hearers, into large generosity for the 
Board. During this Fall season he preached a series of Sunday 
night sermons on "The Women of the New Testament.' ' They 
attracted large audiences. 

He steps through the gateway of "1880" little dreaming 
of the events which the year held in store for him. On Febru- 
ary 18th Dr. Jeremiah B. Jeter died and his death left a large 
gap in Dr. Hatcher's life. The impress of Dr. Jeter's character 
on him was very marked. 

"How can I speak of him?" said Dr. Hatcher a few months 
later. "I am reminded that when I was a motherless boy on 
my old father's knee and he sought to enkindle within my soul 
high aspirations he would point to the example and character 
of this man of God. Most keenly I feel that I am not in any- 
thing what he was, nor yet what I would be, but it is meet that 
I say that next to my Savior's grace for any good in me or 
good done by me I am most indebted to him. 

"Who could have ever dreamed that the rude Bedford boy, 
that set out sixty years ago as a Baptist preacher would close 
his life in the midst of such distinction and grief? On the day 
of his burial I was imprisoned in my chamber of sickness and 
was denied even the tearful pleasure of following his dust 
to his silent home. But as the cortege passed my gate I quit 
my bed and with my wet face pressed against the window pane 
gazed at the hearse as it bore him away to the cemetery. 

"There came back to me the memory of his first entrance 



146 BUILDING A HOME 

into Richmond. Then an awkward, untutored youth, clad in 
homespun, covered with dust, astride his weary horse and 
carrying in his saddle bags all his earthly store. Thus he came 
then, but now he was going out of the city, not to come back 
again. What a change. Then a stranger in a strange city, but 
now he was going out escorted by a great and weeping host." 

A few days after the death of Dr. Jeter, Dr. Hatcher lifted 
himself up from his sick bed and said to his wife. " Jennie, 
I am going to build me a house." His wife thought he was out 
of his head, — inasmuch as fever would often make him delirious. 

"How is that?" she asked "What do you mean? You have 
no money." 

"I will have $1000 come due this Summer from the insurance 
money. We can break up housekeeping and board more cheaply 
than we can now live. If we can save $500 this Summer we 
are safe." 

"I saw that he was sane" said his wife. "I made up my mind 
to help him to do it. We saved $500 that Summer and next 
year I taught music at Mrs. Hallowell's school, — clothing 
myself and the children. The house, costing $3500, was built 
and in three years was paid for." 

This was the house at 608 W. Grace Street, about midway 
between the church and the College and six or seven blocks 
from each. Here he lived during the remainder of his pastorate. 
Multitudes were destined to cross its threshold and many were 
the happy scenes to be enacted within its walls. 

The third story front room was made the "prophets' cham- 
ber" or the "Blue Room" and it was a long and noble ministerial 
procession that tramped its way up the stairs and slept within 
its sacred precincts. Many were the mornings when I would 
pound on the door and announce to the sleeping "prophet" 
that it was "time to get up" and "breakfast will be ready in a 
few minutes." 

Christian hospitality was the spirit of the home. It was for 
him and his wife "open house" all the year round. He 
would pick up preachers on the streets and in meetings, and 




)8 W. GEACE STREET 
His Richmond Home 



CHRISTIAN HOSPITALITY 147 

bring them home with him. He would find them packed 
away in hotels and would ferret them out and bring them to 
the welcome and joy of his house, — to the restful cosy quiet 
of the Blue Room. In his early married life his wife said to 
him one day when he was giving her money for marketing : 

"You give me too much each day for our small family" 
to which he replied: 

"I always want to give enough for you to have somethimg 
extra at meals so that there will always be something for 
visitors" and the rule about the "extras" lasted to the end. 
His wife never knew when he would bring in a guest. Often 
he would come home late for a meal and would come marching 
into the dining room with the dinner already well under way 
and most of it out of sight and he would call out to his attendant 
friend as he would hear the rattle of the knives and forks back 
in the dining room : "Come on back; I expect they have eaten up 
everything on the plantation but we will try our fortunes 
together" — or some such playful expression as that. An extra 
plate and seat were quickly forth coming and also an extra 
dinner and to this was added a warm and happy welcome. Re- 
garding his guests the hospitable motto of the home seemed to 
be: 

"Come in the evening or come in the morning 
Come when you're looked for or come without warning." 

As for the special "dinners" and "breakfasts" and "suppers" 
at which he gathered his friends they were multitudinous. 
Thousands of dollars were spent that could be charged only to 
the "hospitality" account. The other members of the family 
had their own invited guests and he took equal pleasure in 
them. 

"The Lord gives to me because I give to him" he said to 
his wife one day when the subject of their large expenditures 
for entertainment was being discussed. Guests were ever 
coming and going. 



148 SUNDAY SCHOOL ANNIVERSARIES 

"Blest that abode where want and pain despair 

And every stranger finds a vacant chair. 

Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crowned 

Where all the ruddy family around 

Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail 

Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale 

Or press the bashful stranger to his food 

And learn the luxury of doing good." 

His gatherings of preachers around his table brought some 
choice experiences. On such occasions there were two visitors 
whom he always sought to keep on the outside — Glunmess 
and Dulness. 

At the Sunday School Anniversaries Dr. Hatcher always 
presented the prizes and he kept the audience which generally 
overflowed the building in happiest good humor. Instead of 
having all the prize winners grouped around him at once to 
receive their rewards he would call them out from the audience 
one by one and as each would march to the front he would not 
only have a bright word for him but would keep up a contin- 
uous rapid-fire of pleasantries and humorous sallies. The Rich- 
mond Dispatch, in reporting one of the celebrations, said of 
Dr. Hatcher: "his playful hits were greeted by roars of 
laughter. " 

He was presenting prizes for punctual attendance and among 

the prize winners was an old man Mr. Henry , about 75 

years of age, hump backed and sickly. When Dr. Hatcher 
came to his name he said: 

"And here is a prize for another little boy and if little Henry 

will come forward I will be happy to present to the 

little fellow his prize." 

Far back in the audience the old man pushed his way out of 
the pew and started up the aisle. His asthma was making him 
pant and blow in lively fashion. 

"Come on little Henry" called out Dr. Hatcher. "Come right 
up here my little man". The old man's march up the aisle 
brought down the house with roars of laughter and no one 
seemed to enjoy it more than the aforesaid 75 year old Henry. 



ADDRESS ON DR. JETER 149 

In May he attended the meeting of the Southern Baptist 
Convention at Lexington Ky. He spoke on Foreign Missions. 

There were at this time some thorns in his pillow. The 
"disturbing element" in his church were still on his track 
and their arrows often struck him. It was the old faction and 
they gave him a world of trouble. 

"He knew how to wait upon the Lord" says his wife. "Often 
at this time his family thought that he ought not to suffer so 
much indignity — that he ought to give up the church; but his 
reply would be : 'Wait, wait; I can never retreat. I was not 
born to shirk trouble. Wait for deliverance. It will come.' " 

One of the greatest public occasions of his life was the meet- 
ing in Petersburg of the General Association in June when he 
delivered the memorial address on Dr. Jeter. 
He describes the scene: 

"The handsome auditorium was fittingly decorated. A vast 
congregation, including several hundred Baptist ministers, 
many distinguished laymen and not a few chief women of the 
state, filled the house to overflowing. On the platform were 
assembled the old preachers — dear old men of God who had 
long been associated with Dr. Jeter in christian labors. A 
truly heavenly spirit, sad and yet delightful, pervaded the 
assembly. It was one of those unique, impressive, wonderful 
occasions which could never be repeated and cannot be fully 
appreciated by those who did not witness it. It was the re- 
markable spectacle of the Virginia Baptists in solemn assembly, 
lamenting the loss and honoring the memory of the most 
illustrious man that God had ever given them." 

He was at his best that night and a memorable occasion it 
proved to be. I was present and, while I was too young to 
estimate fully the address, yet, I well remember the remarkable 
impression it produced on the audience and the enthusiastic 
appreciation it awakened. I was caught in the jam of the 
aisles at the close of the service and from every lip as the people 
looked into each other's happy faces leaped the words "Oh, 
what a great address." "It was wonderful!" "Wasn't it glor- 



150 ADDRESS ON DR. JETER 

ious?" He had lifted them to the height of Jeter's ideals, and, 
at the close, he had pointed to Jeter's glorified spirit ascending 
the skies; and when the speaker ended and the congregation 
was dismissed and as they surged around the pulpit platform 
and in the aisles, grasping each other's hands there was a light 
on their faces that seemed as if it might have come from the 
other world. I, a boy, saw it and felt the thrill of it and the 
impression made upon my mind, as I was jostled and squeezed 
in the crowded aisle, was, "My papa has made a wonderful 
speech tonight." In referring to this address the Herald said: 

"This splendid address, for vigor of thought and maturity 
of expression, was one of the best speeches ever delivered before 
the General Association. None ever produced a profounder 
impression." 

The address, too long to be presented here, closed with the 
following words: 

"He died splendidly — in all his ripened, glorious prime. He 
did not crumble into decay, nor shrivel into imbecility. Dis- 
ease did not waste and age did not shatter him; but, like the 
imperial leader of Israel, he came to Pisgah with eye undimmed 
and strength unabated. I count his death pre-eminently happy. 
In the stillness of the winter night, when his hour came to go 
his loving father put his finger upon the enginery of his heart — 
that heart which had been beating, beating, beating for nearly 
eighty years and beating always highest for his father's honor. 
He felt the solemn touch and the vast machinery of his life 
trembled, groaned, creaked and shivered; but only for a moment 
and then standing suddenly still, his glad spirit was out and 
gone, upward and away in its celestial flight. It was a trans- 
lation in its suddenness and an ascension in its triumph and 
glory. 

"When he left the world, — Ah but he has not left it. I 
do not say, for I do not know, that his spirit yet remains with 
us. Perhaps it is so. But I do know that the light of his life 
will not go out. The track through space along which he as- 
cended to his eternal home will always be luminous. I have 
fancied, if indeed it is a fancy, that when the gate of pearl 
was opened for him to enter, truant beams of the heavenly 
glory broke out and are now at large on the earth. 



ADDRESS ON DR. JETER 151 

"What a happy moment when his spirit crossed the river and 
saw the great city! What floods of rapture swept over his soul 
when he heard the peal of the heavenly music and saw the 
face of his redeemer! What a greeting his old comrades gave 
him, — Broadus, Poindexter, Taylor and Fuller! What a 
moment when he and Witt met in their eternal reunion! Joy 
upon joy when he saw again the spirit of his glorified mother. 
If he could be happy amid the changes and sorrows of this 
world, I wonder what his feelings were when he touched the 
pavement of the heavenly Jerusalem. If on the December 
morning, he shouted as he emerged from the baptismal waters 
I wonder what he said at his coronation.' ' 



CHAPTER XIV 

1880-1881 

REPARTEE. CALL TO LOUISVILLE. 

During the Summer he began the erection of his own home 
and also the remodeling of his church building. 

"I went to a long but very harmonious church meeting at 
night" he writes his wife on July 14th. "The furious brother was 
absent and everything went beautifully and what is very rare 
I went home and had a glorious sleep. . . . The church 
decided during repairs to close at night but gave me no vacation . 
I think that they forgot it but possibly they may not want me 
to be away during the Summer. Of course I must go a part 
of the time." 

He hied himself away to the mountains, going far up into 
Nelson county to aid Rev. S. P. Huff in a protracted meeting 
at his country church. He carried a fifteen year old lad with 
him, and one day Mr. Huff was driving them along the road 
in his rockaway and the boy was using his rubber "gravel 
shooter" banging away at objects on the road side. 

Soon they came in sight of some cows drowsily grazing on a 
slope, probably 125 feet, or more, from the road, and from the 
neck of each cow was swinging a bell. 

"Hit the bell on that cow and I will give you a quarter" 
called out Dr. Hatcher singling out one of the cows. The offer 
made the boy jump and put him on his mettle. He leaned 
forward, pulled back the rubber, took eager aim and sent the 
pebble singing through the air with nervous expectancy. 
A "ting-a-ling" from the bell brought a laughing shout of ap- 

152 



IN A COUNTRY HOME 153 

proval from Dr. Hatcher and his companion and a feeling of 
triumph and a quarter to the highly privileged lad beside them. 

I went with him to the Association where a char- 
acteristic incident occured. It was the afternoon of the first 
day and delegates were being assigned to their homes where 
they were to be entertained. My father and I were out in the 
church yard and an old farmer, with a rugged face and simple 
garb, approached us and said: "Dr. Hatcher, I want you to go 
home with me tonight. I live several miles down the creek 
but if you can put up with my living, I'll be mighty glad to 
have you come." 

The old fellow's general appearance indicated very plain 
living and I confess I did not draw any bright pictures of our 
prospective entertainment for the night. In the meantime 
other gentlemen came up with their invitations. "Doctor 
Hatcher," said one, "I want you as my guest to-night," and 
yet another, "Doctor, I have come for you; my wife said I must 
certainly bring Dr. Hatcher home with me tonight." 

As these men of finer garb and appearance added their 
invitations I saw the old farmer from down the creek, with a 
disappointed look on his face, shrink back, — or was almost 
crowded back — by the gathering group. I shall never forget 
the surprised and delighted look that came to the old man as 
Dr. Hatcher said: "I am going with my old friend over there." 
He, of course, expressed his appreciation of the other invitations. 
I think he must have seen the disappointment in the kindly 
face, — at any rate he went; and the visit: — it turned out as 
such visits usually turned out for him. Great times he had 
with his happy hearted old host; other preachers were included 
in the fist of guests and among them all none were happier 
than Dr. Hatcher though his happiness was upset for a few 
moments on the next morning. Several ministers were in the 
room together. Dr. Hatcher was lying in bed, and one of the 
ministers ran to his bed, and in a spirit of fun began to shake 
him very violently, saying: "Heigho, Hatcher; wake up! wake 
up; Why dont you get up" or some such words as these. 



154 CAPABLE OF ANGER 

But he did not like such familiarity and rough handling. 
In fact he seemed to resent it and with a good deal of fire he 
retorted : 

"Stop that, I do not like it at all and you must not take 
such liberties." 

It startled me, for it was rare, indeed, that I ever heard such 
outbursts from him. His irritation soon passed away, however, 
like the mist of the morning, but for the moment his anger 
suffered an explosion and it made plain to all the observers in 
that room that morning that whatever jocularities they might 
wish to indulge in with the Doctor they had better not include 
in their list an early morning jostle in bed. 

On another occasion his anger at a brother — a minister I 
think — rose to a pitch of fury. He and others had ascended a 
tall mountain and were standing upon an immense rocky 
level at the summit and were enjoying the splendid view. 

The great rock lifted itself high at the top of a precipice. 
As they were standing several yards from the edge of the table 
rock, one of the number, a big, burly brother, picked up Dr. 
Hatcher in his arms and started on a dash with him towards the 
edge of that precipice in a threatening manner, but in a spirit 
of mischievous fun. It infuriated Dr. Hatcher. 

He was partly frightened by being hurried so precipitately 
to the mountain top edge but even more he was indignant at 
such ruthless handling by the brother. He managed to wrest 
himself from his grasp and delivered himself of a volcanic 
discourse to the brother aforesaid. 

"Beware the fury of a patient man." 

A minister, one day, greatly exasperated, used violent lan- 
guage. An Elder said "Dominie, you should restrain your tem- 
per." "Restrain my temper; I'd have you know, Sir, I restrain 
more temper in five minutes than you do in five years." 

He was aroused when any one sought to take advantage 
of him, whether in the social circle, in public assembiles or in 
any kind of physical handling. He had in him a spirit of 



REPARTEE 155 

retaliation that resented an attack. In the matter of physical 
encounters he was especially sensitive, because of his crippled 
hand, which practically put him hors de combat. 

There were occasions when one would seek to make a spec- 
tacle of him by putting him in an awkward position. With 
reference to such cases he said : 

"My instinct for retaliation always came into play. It 
sometimes sprang into the arena without granting me one 
moment for forethought. The man who hit me, I hit — not 
always wisely and not always wittily, though possibly I might 
be candid enough to say that if I had any success in public 
collisions with others, it was in the way of repartee and in speak- 
ing thus frankly I cannot acquit myself of an unseemly love of 
victory. It really seemed to me that in these unexpected 
passages at arms my answer was invariably born of 1 he attack. 
It seemed to be waiting there for my use and hardly seemed 
the product of my own thought." 

During his earlier ministry he was attending the 

Association and one night he and several other ministers were 

entertained at the same home. Rev. Reuben J , an old 

and highly revered pastor, whose religion was of the serious 
cast, was one of the number. Mr. Hatcher and several other 
young preachers found themselves in the same room that night 
with brother Reuben who had already retired and the younger 
ministers thought that he was asleep. They were in a jovial 
frame and were indulging in some merry jokes. All at once, 
brother Reuben slowly lifted his head from his pillow and 
mournfully drawled out: "What is this I hear; ministers of the 
gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, in attendance upon a religious 
Association, and here indulging in such boisterous and worldly 
levity." 

With that doleful pronouncement his head went back upon 
the pillow and there ensued an awful silence and, as the young 
preachers began to feel the awkwardness of the situation, Mr. 
Hatcher, said: "Brother Moderator, I move that the solemn 
came in at the wrong time." 



156 REPARTEE 

The spell was broken and the other jokers declared after- 
wards that they hailed William E. as their benefactor. Brother 
Reuben then passed into the land of Nod. 

He had a pleasant little encounter one morning in the pastor's 

conference in Richmond with Dr. H . Every Sunday, 

in Dr. H 's choir gallery, at the rear of the pulpit, 

stood a German professor of Music who, with his cornet, led 
the congregation in the singing. 

At the Conference that morning the preachers were making 
reports. One of them said: 

"I heard Dr. Hatcher preach on yesterday and I greatly 
enjoyed his sermon. It began quietly and simply but it grew 
larger and larger to the end. It reminded me of a horn." 

"A brass horn" blurted out Dr. H in a gruff and 

drawling voice and a sly twinkle in his eye, and with a burst 
of laughter from the Conference. 

"Yes" retorted Dr. Hatcher "and I blew my own horn; I did 
not have to hire a big fat Dutchman to stand up in my choir 
and blow it for me." 

During the summer it was announced that he would preach 
in a certain mountain village. A few hours before the service 
he was approached by a lady, who was a member of another 
Denomination, who sought an introduction to him. 

"Dr. Hatcher" she said in a confidential, but peremptory, 
tone "I have a special request to make of you." 

He bowed his prettiest to the lady and begged her to announce 
her desires. 

"We are going to have a concert at our church tonight, and I 
want to ask that you will begin your sermon as quickly as you 
possibly can, and that you will preach just as short a sermon 
as you can, and then ask the congregation to come around to 
the concert at our church." 

The Herald, in telling of this incident, said: "It is reported 
that the sermon was unusually long." 

He appeared in one of his happiest roles when speaking at 
District Associations. He seemed always ready and his speeches 



ENTERING THE NEW AUDITORIUM 157 

had in them a spice and sparkle that made him very popular. 
The Richmond Dispatch said that whenever he arose to speak 
there "came upon every face a look of satisfaction which seemed 
to say, 'Now we shall have it.' " 

In his travels he crossed the track of a certain Baptist 
preacher of that day who was beginning to take dips into the 
"political waters/' — to the regret of his ministerial brethren. 

One night Dr. Hatcher preached at Court House 

from the text, "And Lot dwelt in the cities of the plain and 
pitched his tent towards Sodom." At one place in the sermon, 
he said, "Brethren, it has been suggested that Lot was a ruler 
in Sodom, but I do not believe it. Lot got down low, lower 
than the very dogs, but I do not believe that he ever dabbled 
in politics." The above mentioned preacher was one of his 
listeners. 

On Nov. 21st he and his Grace Street people entered their 
church auditorium which had been refurnished and beautified. 
It was his custom to make much of special days in his church 
services. 

"A warm and happy greeting to you all" he said in his 
opening words. "Brethren beloved, saints of this church, I 
give you a pastor's congratulation as you return to the Lord's 
house. Come in ye blessed of the Lord rich and poor, old and 
young; come in to the place which your own generous love 
has renovated and beautified as the dwelling place of the Most 
High. . . . For many days some of you have longed to 
see what your eyes now behold and you are happy." 

The skies smiled brightly upon pastor and people and they 
little thought that in a few days he would receive a letter that 
would mark an epoch in his fife. He received a call about 
Dec. 13th from the Walnut Street Baptist Church in Louisville, 
Ky., at that time probably the most commanding pastorate 
in the South. The letter closed as follows : 

"We are informed of the devotion of your church in Richmond 
to you and the opposition you will have to contend with if 
you are inclined to accept the call; but we believe the good 



158 THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 

of the Baptist denomination requires your acceptance and that 
you yourself will be blessed in making the sacrifice of any 
personal attachment and comforts for the time being and that 
in the near future you will thank God that you made the 
movement. 

"At any event, we hope that you will make us a visit at any 
early date. Yours in Christian love 

Junius Caldwell 
Arthur Peter 
Wm. Moses 
John B. McFerran 
Mason W. Sherrill 
W. B. Caldwell 
Wm. Harrison 
John H. Weller 

Deacons of the Church." 



This letter struck him a heavy blow. It confronted him 
with the question as to whether the remainder of his life's 
work should have its headquarters in Virginia, or in the Middle 
West. No other pastorate in the entire country could have 
appealed to him as strongly as did that one. In Louisville 
was located the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, where 
were gathered for training two or three hundred young min- 
isters from different parts of the world. It is not surprising 
that the call startled and bewildered him. 

He stood at the parting of the ways. On the one hand lay 
the wide field in the Middle West, while, on the other, lay his 
own State, where he had built up his ministry and established 
his influence. In the meantime the news of the Louisville call 
took wings and met him wherever he went. Friends on the 
street and in the social circle assured him of their devotion 
and their earnest hope that he would not go. By almost every 
mail came letters, some of them lining up on the side of Louis- 
ville and others making a plea for Richmond. Dr. M. B. 
Wharton, a former pastor of the Walnut Street Church, wrote: 
"Think well before you decline. It is in my judgement, par 



THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 159 

excellence, the pastorate of the Southern Baptist Convention, 
especially since the Seminary has been located there." 

His lifelong friend, Dr. A. E. Owen, writes: 

"You are among the foremost men, if not the foremost man, 
in the General Association of Virginia. If you go there is no one 
who could exactly fill your place. 

"And yet though it costs me a pang to write it I would say, 
'Go'. Louisville is now, and is destined to be still more so, 
a Baptist center and your influence would go out all over the 
South and into portions of the North. 

"But, at last, this is a matter between you and your Savior. 
I will quote here a sentence that you wrote to me when I 
sought your advice in regard to coming here. You said 'Send 
your telegrams to Heaven.' I can but repeat the inj unction.' ' 

Dr. Andrew Broadus, Jr., writes him that Virginia Baptist 
ministers have never done well in the West. Dr. R. M. Dudley, 
president of Georgetown College, writes : 

"Louisville is more than ever destined to become a commer- 
cial center for the Southwest. . . Here (at Louisville) you 
have an opportunity to plant your self at the very source of 
power and make your influence felt far and near." 

In our home the raging question was, "will we go to Louis- 
ville or not?" and many nights, — and far into the late hours — 
I sat around the fire in the sitting room listening to him and my 
mother talking over the situation. 

His new home at 608 West Grace Street had just been com- 
pleted and entered. When the call came the pictures were then 
resting on the floor against the walls waiting to be hung and 
there they stood, while the Louisville matter hung fire. "If we 
go to Louisville I will not need to hang the pictures" said my 
mother one day and the rumor sped to the Walnut Street 
ladies in Louisville that Dr. Hatcher's wife had said that if 
Dr. Hatcher went to Louisville she would never hang another 
picture. 

His Church awaited his verdict while they crowded him 
with their appeals that he would not leave them. Not all of 



160 THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 

his members however, joined in this appeal. "The unfriendly 
few" were still giving him trouble and his family thought that 
the factional bother in the church was a strong reason why he 
should get from under the Grace Street strain and accept the 
call to Louisville. 
Christmas came and still the question hung unanswered. 

His friend, Dr. J. R. Bagby, writes him: "I dont think the 
College would rally from the blow your leaving would give it 
for ten years. Already, I have heard one mother say, 'If Dr. 
Hatcher is going away I don't think my boy can go to Richmond 
College.' " 

Upon a repeated invitation from the Walnut Street Church 
he visited Louisville, leaving Richmond on Jan. 6th. Among 
the members of the Walnut Street Church were Drs. John A. 
Broadus, and Basil Manly of the Theological Seminary. He 
preached for the Church on Jan. 9th on "Jacob," a sermon 
which he had preached on the previous Sunday to his own 
church and which became one of his most popular character 
sermons. 

While in Louisville he received from his deacons in Richmond 
an appeal to him that he would not leave Grace Street. This 
appeal, however, was not signed by all the deacons. One of 
the absentees was unable to be present at the meeting. "The 
others, who were absent, I am not advised as to the reason" 
writes Deacon Browne. "The resolutions were adopted un- 
animously and cordially. Dont decide the matter until your 
return." 

He returned to Richmond, but made no announcement 
upon his arrival. At home we kept him busy telling us about 
his visit and his pictures sometimes made our mouths water 
for Louisville. 

Louisville presses its plea. Mr Junius Caldwell writes him 
from Louisville: 

"You are often inquired about most anxiously since you 
left and there is but one tone to the question, 'Have you heard 



THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 161 

from Brother Hatcher?' and that is followed by words of 
emphasis 'Oh; I do hope he will come.' We have not heard a 
word from you since you were here." 

Mr. Caldwell then goes on to say that the church would 
either give him $1000 for moving expenses or that they would — 
if he would prefer it — be glad to give him an amount which he 
thought would meet his probable expenses. He then continues: 

"We are remembering you in our prayer meetings. Brother 
Hatcher, my heart gets so full of your coming and of the work 
which I think God has for you to do here that heart throbs 
and tears almost overwhelm me. Do not disappoint us by 
declining our call." 

For over a month the suspense continued. Letters came from 
different parts of Virginia urging him to remain at Grace 
Street. He stated, the latter part of January, that he would 
announce, on the next Sunday, his decision regarding the 
Louisville call. No one knew what it would be and anxiety 
sat upon the faces of the congregation as they gathered on 
that day. He preached the sermon but their ears were waiting 
for something else. When the sermon reached its close he 
said, in substance: 

"As you know, for many weeks I have held under anxious 
consideration a call to the pastorate of the Walnut Street 
Baptist Church of Louisville. I have after long and earnest 
and prayerful deliberation decided to decline the call." 

The suspense was over and the strain was ended. One of the 
members arose and said: "Brethren and sisters; to our great 
joy our pastor has declined the nattering call from Louisville 
and decided to remain as our pastor. I think it would be a 
fitting thing for the church and congregation assembled to 
express now their happiness over his decision and also their 
purpose to sustain him in his future work and that we do this 
by extending to him our hand of brotherly greeting." 

Out from the choir rang the hymn "Blest be the tie that 
binds" and up the aisles poured the congregation and for a 



162 THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 

half hour the people thronged about the pulpit, grasping the 
pastor's hand, beaming at him their love and mingling their 
songs, their tears and their smiles in happy confusion. 

Not all the men joined in that ovation at the first. One 
deacon held back and many eyes were on him. After awhile, 
he followed the others and moved up the aisle and extended 
his hand to the pastor. Thus the list was made complete and 
the response was unanimous. 

"Dr. Hatcher" said Mrs. Taylor after it was all over and 
the congregation was melting away "I am going to take Mrs. 
Hatcher home in my buggy." 

"Yes; take her" he replied with a smile "she has cried so 
much here this morning that she is not fit to walk along the 
street." 

He sent his letter of declination to Deacon Junius Caldwell, 
with whom he had had the correspondence in connection with 
the call, and he inclosed the following personal letter to him : 

"Richmond, Jan. 30th, 1881. 
"My Dear Bro. Junius: 

"Almost persuaded — but, after all constrained to say that 
I cannot come. I did my best to see my way to Louisville; 
my heart yearned for you and I was ready to come, but at the 
last I had to decline. 

You and McFerran will despise me, I fear, but I mean to 
love you, both, all my days. I cannot have the honor of being 
the pastor of Walnut Street, but I can love and honor the church 
as long as my life lasts. Here is the fatal letter. It cost my 
anguish to pen it, but I had to do it. 

Write me a line saying that in your warm soul there is com- 
passion even for me and I will love you better then ever. I 
know you can find a better man and that is my consolation. 

"Tell Mrs. C that I will ever cherish the memory of her 
sisterly kindness. 

"Hastily yours, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 



THE CALL TO LOUISVILLE 163 

On the next Tuesday evening his door bell rang and, to his 
surprise, in came a flood of people — his Grace Street members — 
who wished to express their grateful joy to their pastor and his 
wife over his recent decision to remain with them. Col. T. J. 
Evans made a speech to the pastor on behalf of the members, 
in which he said: "All over Virginia men, women and children 
are delighted to know that Dr. Hatcher will not leave his native 
state where his influence is unsurpassed by any minister in the 
denomination to which he belongs." The glad outburst on the 
part of his church was to him a bright omen. He felt that in 
deciding against Louisville he had practically decided against 
all other fields and had committed himself to Richmond for the 
remainder of his life and with this conviction he took up his 
pastoral duties with a new and eager grasp. 



CHAPTER XV. 

1881. 

HIS SUNDAYS. PREACHING. PUBLIC PRAYERS. 

His Sundays were his mountain-top days. He greeted its 
morning light with a song and bounded out of bed eager to 
meet its many tasks. When we children began to scamper off 
to Sunday School about nine o'clock we would generally leave 
him walking up and down the sitting room " studying his 
sermon" and, yet, calling out his cheery "good bye" to us as we 
passed through the room, or through the hall. Most fre- 
quently, in the open weather, we would leave him walking on v 
the front porch and as a goodly procession of his Grace Street 
people filed by his gate every Sunday morning, enroute to 
Sunday School, he had to divide his time between reviewing 
his sermon and bowing his "good morning" to his own flock, 
as well as to nearly every other passer by. Each one received 
his greeting and, frequently, some friendly word attached 
thereto. This breezy touch with the people at the gateway of 
his Sabbaths seemed to refresh and quicken him. In fact, 
folks were interesting to him always and everywhere. About 
ten o'clock he would start for the church; about 10-25 he would 
come into the Sunday School and his entrance kindled many 
an eye. He would usually come as the entire school was as- 
sembling for its closing service and his walk up the aisle was 
slow and punctuated with greetings and hand shakes along the 
way. Faces would light up as different ones reached for his 
hand and received his salutation. 

But up stairs in the auditorium; — Ah, there he stepped 
upon his throne. There he stood in the presence of his people 

164 



VISITING PREACHERS 165 

and of the great congregation; and his morning audience was 
a sight to behold, — radiant, eager eyed, full of love for their 
pastor. 

He was so real, so bereft of self consciousness, so devout and 
so joyously worshipful that 'his spirit was contagious and up- 
lifting, and he was interesting from the moment he entered 
the pulpit. The sight of his congregation fired his heart and the 
privilege of preaching was for him a taste of heaven. His soul 
literally plunged into the service with exultant rapture and 
reveled in its features of song and prayer, of scripture and 
sermon. 

Richmond was a way-station between the North and South, 
and Grace Street was a rendevous for many of Richmond's 
distinguished travelers. Often would he lay hold of a visiting 
minister and press him into service for a sermon. He was a very 
sympathetic listener. I have often seen his face fairly beam 
with delight as he sat on the pulpit intently listening to some 
visiting preacher's sermons that did not seem to impress the con- 
gregation deeply, but which would find responsive chords in 
his heart and elicit his grateful appreciation. I remember a 
minister from the West being picked out of his congregation 
one morning by him. A stranger he was, but the pastor's eye 
summed him up and he decided that he could safely open the 
gates of his pulpit to him. He preached and the pastor was 
filled with happiness over his sermon. The congregation may, 
or may not, have felt the same as he did. At any rate nothing 
would do for the pastor but that the visitor — a Mr. Cameron, 
I think, — should preach again that evening and the evening 
sermon put the pastor again on the hilltops of pleasure. 

Dr. C. H. Dodd, now of Germantown, Penn,. who later came 
to be one of Dr. Hatcher's dearly loved friends, had in his 
church in one of his former pastorates a man who traveled into 
the South every winter. "He would always go to hear Dr. 
Hatcher when he would stop in Richmond" said Dr. Dodd. 
"That seemed to be one of the important events of his Southern 
trip, and he would always come to me and give me Dr. Hatcher's 



166 HIS SUNDAY SERVICES 

sermons and, in this way, even before I formed Dr. Hatcher's 
acquaintance, I came to know him and to receive impressions 
of his greatness." All classes were represented in his audience. 
There were the poor, those of moderate income and there were 
also those highly favored, not merely in worldly goods, but 
also in intelligence and culture. His eastern aisle was known 
as the "literary aisle." Here sat Drs., A. B. Brown, H. H. 
Harris, Col. Thos. J. Evans and others. He generally brought 
someone home with him to dinner on Sundays and as some of 
the children generally had guests, the Sunday table presented 
a lively scene and the most enthusiastic one in the party was 
the gentleman at the foot of the table. 

But "time's up" would soon sound from his lips at the 
dinner table, and off to the Boy's Meeting we would go. After 
the meetings, he was either hidden away in his study for work 
on his night's sermon, — that is after the disappearance from 
the study of the clump of boys who usually followed him from 
the meeting, or else, he would jump in his buggy and whip 
up "Grace" in the direction of some other church in the 
city. 

Sometimes supper would be picked up at one of the near by 
homes of his members and then came the night service, — 
not usually as largely attended as that of the morning, — and 
yet the night service held high rank in the life of his church. 
There were so many special occasions, Anniversary services 
and the like, that were held at night that there was not much 
lowering of the tide in these second services. "608 W. Grace" 
generally had some droppers in on Sunday nights after church. 
The girls could, as a rule, be depended on to provide for the 
back parlor a chattering bunch of beaux and up stairs the "older 
folks" came together; Dr. Hatcher would settle into an 
easy chair and tell the others to "talk on" and the genial chit- 
chat would ripple along; the visitors would, after a while, 
disperse and the Sunday paper would be brought to him. "My 
Sunday is over now" he would say "and I will read the paper." 
Thus his Sundays would go trooping by and golden days they 



PREACHING 167 

were for him and for multitudes of others who walked with 
him in the way. 

The crowning joy of his life was preaching. He was so 
grateful to God for having chosen him to be a preacher that 
he said: "I thank him now and will thank him when I reach 
the throne and will thank him forever more." To the end of 
his days it seemed to hurt him if a Sunday passed when he 
could not preach. 

He used neither manuscript, nor notes, in the pulpit, He 
was very deliberate in the beginning and his first sentences 
were crisp and striking. These opening sentences, so carefully 
constructed, were harbingers of good things to come. Having 
thus gained the ear of the audience at the commencement he 
would carry them with him to the end. His sermons generally 
worked their way to a climax. His own soul seemed to grow 
and climb with his sermon. It fed itself on the bread of life 
which he was giving to others and, when he would come to the 
end, he would be standing on the heights, and his audience 
would be with him. "The flights on which he took his hearers, 
as he started towards heaven in his preaching, seemed to me 
little short of translation. As I write I hunger to hear him" 
writes Rev. J. • V. Dickinson. In the beginning of the sermon his 
appeal was purely to the intellect and his opening words were 
given ample time for grappling the minds of the congregation. 
His voice, while often a little husky, was so rich in sympathy 
and character that it immediately commanded a respectful 
hearing. When he would, in preaching, appeal to his audi- 
ence, using the word "Brethren", the word would have in it 
a wealth of meaning. When he would arise in a Conven- 
tion and call out "Brother Mod-e-ra-tor" the two words would 
roll out with a certain melody and individuality that would 
compel attention and win a favorable hearing. It is not easy 
to describe his voice, but it seemed to say to the listener that 
if he would only give heed that it had much that was valuable 
to be heard. His preaching was textual. Instead of selecting 
subjects to preach about he selected texts and he gathered all 



168 TREATMENT OF A TEXT 

of the sermon out of the text. What he said of Dr. Jeter's 
preaching was true of his own, viz: — he literally picked his 
text to pieces and gave it to the people. Regarding the text, 
he says to young preachers: 

"Do not take it as a thing to hang your wobbling and variant 
thoughts upon. Do not make a base of it from which you can 
sprint in every direction and then dash back at certain turns 
merely to touch it; also, do not make it a vase in which to 
stick the gaudy flowers of your rhetoric. Do not preach on 
your text as if you were trying to batter it into the ground nor 
about it as if you were besieging it to open its barred gateway, 
nor from it as if you were having a target practice with the 
text as the bull's eye which you hope perchance sometimes 
to hit. 

"Quietly unlock the text and walk into it, as into a store room, 
and get out the best of its contents and come out with them to 
the people, — something for each one in his season. Do that, 
brother, and that will be preaching. 

"We often hear one preacher ask another how he treated a 
certain text. That was a very delicate question to ask most 
preachers. . . It is really hard to treat a text in a gen- 
tlemanly way. It is a great temptatiom to take advantage 
of it. Often we are more anxious to put things into a text than 
to get things out of it. Whenever a preacher gets to a point 
where he will let a text talk and he will listen he is very liable 
to make a good sermon." 

He would in his preaching generally mention the varying 
views of commentators about a passage and then would give 
his own view and I know one boy who used to listen eagerly, 
each Sunday, for these different interpretations and who would 
always think that the preacher's interpretation was nearer 
the mark than that of any of the others. 

He was never violent in his gestures and he had a horror 
of "ranting" or "yelling" in the pulpit. There was in his de- 
livery a poise and self mastery that prevented such madness, 
and yet, as his heart would catch fire from his sermon, his 
whole being would be aglow and his voice would ring out with 
passionate earnestness. But such outbursts were not spasmodic ; 



PREACHING 169 

but were usually the breaking of a storm that had been 
gathering during his sermon. 

He rarely went ahead of his hearers in the expression of his 
emotions. There would be times, however, when he would 
set free the fire that was in his soul, and his words would blaze 
with passion. He thus writes : 

"It is fatal to a public speaker's success to be too much 
carried away with his subject. We have known men whose 
emotions were easily moved and could not speak without being 
overmastered by their feelings. It was impossible for them to 
command the respect of an audience. ... It rarely adds 
to his effectiveness to cry and yet there must be about him 
those signs of restrained passion which make the people feel 
that if he were to cry it would be a cyclone. The world 
reveres the man with unused resources. 

"Of course times come when all that is in a man must be put 
out. There are great battles when reinforcements must be 
called from every quarter, when the last reserve must be thrown 
to the front and when the supreme struggle for the victory is to 
be made." 

In picturing a preacher throwing all his reserves to the front 
in a final attack he says : 

"Let his charmed soul be turned loose; let his voice roar 
like the cataract, let his nerves tingle and burn with contagious 
fire. Let all the light of his mind and heart break forth, let 
his eyes flow like rivers, let his face be as red as the sun and 
let him, like the French Emperor, call out his Imperial Guard, 
charge with resistless fury and sweep the field with victory." 

Ofttimes such climaxes in his sermons would gather about 
an illustration; at any rate it was rare that his sermon did not 
contain at some pivotal point in the discourse a story, and usually 
it was only one and that gathered from his own experience. 
This page out of his own experience was generally the sermon's 
masterpiece and seemed born for that particular occasion. 

He might be hurried in the other parts of the discourse 
but never with the story. There he played the artist and who, 



170 CHARACTER SERMONS 

that ever heard him paint those pictures would not testify 
to their beauty and power. 

For the stock anecdotes he had a horror and his lips would 
not touch them. Of such anecdotes he said, 'They, like David, 
have served their generation and should fall on sleep." His 
own ministry teemed with rich incidents and they swarmed 
about him for his use. 

His character sermons were his best. Dr. John A. Broadus, 
president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary said 
to his class in Homiletics, "Dr. Hatcher ought to publish a 
volume of his sermons on Bible characters; it would be the most 
unique thing in Sermonology." 

He could analyze a person and could paint his picture with 
startling vividness. The Bible characters lived before his own 
mind and in his preaching he simply pulled aside the curtain 
that his audience might see what he saw. But he was not so 
much the portrait painter that stood off asking his audience 
to look upon a picture; he was rather the intimate companion 
that brought into your presence one of his friends and before 
you knew it you were listening to that person talk. 

"He would take a Bible character, or scene, or miracle and 
go to talking about it just as if it were true," says Rev. J. E. 
Cook. 

"You almost take off your hat as he introduces you to Martha. 
You begin to scrape off the mud and shout as you get out of the 
horrible pit. You will know Joseph the secret disciple the rest 
of eternity." 

Dr. P. T. Hale writes: 

"I remember hearing him once, in Washington City, preach 
on "Martha of Bethany". Years before, I had visited the 
town of Bethany, but I could not then realize that Martha and 
Mary and Lazarus had ever been there, but I saw them all 
during that wonderful sermon, while Dr. Hatcher described 
their home. I could see the eager face of Martha, as she looked 
out of the window, and I saw Jesus coming with His disciples 
to her home for dinner! I could see the fluttering robe of the 
Master as He drew near the home of these cherished friends." 



PREACHING 171 

In his character sermons he would usually select, not the 
entire life of the individual, but simply some crucial incident 
in his life. In his notable sermon on Lot he chose the act of 
Lot in pitching his tent towards Sodom and his sermon 
hinged on the words "towards Sodom." 

The text was "And Lot dwelt in the cities of the plain and 
pitched his tent towards Sodom." It was not in wicked Sodom 
that Lot moved with his family — Oh never! The mere sug- 
gestion of such a move would have been to Lot an insult. His 
new home was planted in the "cities of the plain." "Very true" 
said the preacher "but it was towards Sodom." The climax came 
in the picture of the doom of Sodom, the piteous efforts of 
Lot to save his family, the hasty flight, the burning city, the 
tragic death of his wife and his own disastrous end. 

"William Eldridge Hatcher, taken all in all, easily stands in 
the front rank of American Baptist preachers." 

These words were written in the "Chicago Standard" by Rev 
H. T. Louthan — but of himself Dr. Hatcher wrote: 

"Oh why do not men preach. What is the matter with us. 
I take up the lament of Jeter, one of the greater men of the 
South, '0 that I could preach; I cannot preach; I have never 
preached; my heart fails me lest I quit the earth without ever 
preaching a worthy sermon.' " 

His public prayers were unique. I was always impressed with 
the manner in which he used his mind in his prayers. Of course 
they had fervor, because his hearty interest in the entire service, 
the sermon, the hymns, etc., kept the fire burning in his soul from 
beginning to end, but, while his heart was glowing with feeling, 
his mind was equally active and his prayers were vibrant with 
thought. He carried his people and their burdens on his brain 
as well as on his heart, and his public petitions were mental 
structures. He had, one morning, in his service a distinguished 
visitor, Dr. Henry G. Weston, president of Crozer Seminary, 
who, many years afterwards, wrote him regarding his visit: 

"May I tell you what it was that gave you such a place in 
my heart? 



172 PUBLIC PRAYERS 

"Twenty years or more ago I spent a Sunday in Richmond. 
In the morning service I attended your church. I do not 
remember your text, or your sermon; but I was greatly struck 
by your prayer. It was a model prayer for a pastor to offer as 
he leads the devotions of his church. I have been accustomed 
to refer to it as such. I had heard of you as the most influential 
pastor in Richmond. That prayer explained to me why you 
held that position. As a prayer in that place and at that time 
it was simply perfect. . . . In that prayer of yours I saw 
what kind of pastor you were, what you were to your people 
and what your people were to you." 

" Yours gratefully 

"Henry G. Weston." 

Concerning short prayers he thus expressed himself: 

"No, we don't like that either. Dont like what? We dont like 
anybody to ask a brother to offer a word of prayer. To ask a 
man to say a hasty word to the Lord belittles prayer. If you 
want a man to offer a short prayer then pick out a short-prayer 
man. If the time is limited excuse the long winded brother for 
that occasion or else take your own medicine and do the short 
prayer yourself. When a brother asks us to make a short 
prayer we get scared at once lest we go beyond his notion 
of shortness and we feel that the congregation is watching us 
to see how long we will take. It gets to be a habit with some 
preachers to ask for brief prayers or 'a word of prayer'. We do 
not like it. At the same time, dear long winded suppliants, 
take not this as a vindication of you." 

He made his Sunday services entertaining. There was a 
bouyancy and joy in the exercises. One of his members, Mr. 

J. D. C , in speaking of the church services, says, "I 

never knew what he would do or say next. He kept me on the 
lookout for what was coming. He was intensely interesting." 

It was not that he had various schemes for attracting his 
congregation; but he was so real, so free from self consciousness, 
so fresh and spontaneous in his direction of the public service, 
that he naturally kept his audience awake and on the qui vive. 

The above named gentleman Mr. C , when he 

began coming to the church, used to sit up in the side gallery, 
at the end just over the pulpit, and therefore at the longest 



INTERESTING SERVICES 173 

distance from the pulpit. Dr. Hatcher said to him in his later 
years, when he had become an active member and was always 
at the front in the services, "Jim, I had to preach you all 
the way down that gallery and then down the stairs and then 
up the aisle here to the front, before I could get you where I 
wanted you." He had a habit while seated in the pulpit of 
letting his eyes run over his audience as if he was getting ac- 
quainted with them individually and by the time he arose to 
preach he knew pretty well whom he had before him. Such a 
personal interest in his people followed him out of his pulpit 
as well as into it. To the above mentioned member he jocularly 
said: "Jim, you are mighty mean, but I like you because of 
the man that I think you may become." He came to cherish 
this gentleman — now a very useful layman — and also his wife, 
as among his beloved friends. 

He had scant patience with dulness in a religious meeting. 
For example, one Sunday afternoon, the latter part of March, 
he went over to Manchester to attend a Missionary meeting. 
Dr. McDonald was expected to speak, but failed to appear. 
"Brother McDonald is not present" droned out the chairman 
and a solemn disappointment struck the audience. "I do not 
know why Brother McDonald is not present, but he is not 
here, and we are all very sorry that he is not here." 

"Brother Chairman" said Dr. Hatcher rising in his seat and 
speaking with a little fire in his voice, "I desire to prefer charges 
against Dr. McDonald because of his absence this afternoon 
and to ask that he be summoned to appear before the next 
meeting of this Society to show cause why he should not be 
prosecuted for failing to appear at this meeting. Let me add 
this, Mr. Chairman, and that is that I am willing, when the 
the case comes up before the Society, to act as prosecuting 
attorney." 

The solemn crust of the meeting was broken, the audience 
put in good humor and the current of the meeting rippled 
along in brighter fashion. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

1882. 

EDITOR RELIGIOUS HERALD. IN THE SOCIAL CIRCLE. 
THE CARAVAN. THE BAPTISTS. 

He went, during the Summer, out among the mountains 
of Southwest Virginia and, among other things, he spoke on 
Education at the Lebanon Association. Out in the crowd that 
day was a boy who, many years afterwards, thus wrote in the 
Herald regarding that Association: 

"Dr. Hatcher made a speech about Richmond College that 
awakened in me a desire and purpose to go to that institution. 
Ah that time I was not prepared to enter College and there 
were no apparent means for carrying out my purpose. . .The 
impression of that speech and the longing it awakened never 
left me for a day." 

The result was that the boy found his way to Richmond 
College. "Soon after my arrival at Richmond College" he 
writes "I met the man who had inspired the ambition which 
had brought me there." 

This youth, H. W. Williams, now an honored Baptist pastor 
in one of the Southern states, has already been mentioned in 
these pages in connection with Dr. Hatcher's croquet playing 
at the College. 

He received, in November, a call to the pastorate of the 
First Baptist Church of Greenville S. C. In fact in the following 
years of his life he received many calls to attractive positions, 
but Richmond held him fast. Early in 1882 he received an 
invitation that opened to him a wide door of opportunity. He 

174 






THE RELIGIOUS HERALD 175 

was asked to become one of the editors of the Religious Herald, 
the Baptist state paper of Virginia. The prospect attracted 
him and when at his church meeting he asked the consent of 
his church to his undertaking this extra work he said: 

"I am now forty eight years of age; I mourn to think that 
so much of my life has passed and that so little has been 
accomplished. I know not how much of my life remains, but 
I do have an overmastering desire to put into these remaining 
years as much service for my Master as possible." 

I remember nothing else he said that night about the Herald 
work except the above paragraph, which startled me at the 
time by the manner in which it was said. I went home from the 
meeting saying to myself, "My father is surely anxious to 
hurry up and get in all the work he possibly can before he dies." 

The circle of his influence was now greatly widened and there 
were hundreds and probably thousands who watched eagerly 
for his writings week by week. 

"A more facile pen, or a more fertile brain than his we do not 
know among our Southern Baptist preachers," said the Bap- 
tist Courier in speaking of him. It also added "If there is a 
more racy and more piquant religious editor we have not yet 
made his acquaintance." 

He aimed to spend sometime at the Herald office every day. 
This office was, to a certain extent, Baptist headquarters for 
Richmond and here, day by day, he was brought in touch with 
Baptists from different parts of the country; all manner of 
subjects and questions were fired at him for his columns. For 
example one lady sent the request, "Ask Dr. Hatcher if he 
would advise me to send my children to a dancing school." 
He published the question and added his reply, which was as 
follows : 

"Well sister, that depends on several things. If your main 
idea is to fit them for worldly pleasure and make them popular 
with fashionable people, we would think it desirable for you to 



176 RESIGNATION OF DR. MCDONALD 

have them taught dancing. They would feel very awkward in 
such society unless their feet had been properly educated. 
Then, it may be that you would find it easier to educate the 
heels than the heads of your children. Besides, if you would 
have them trained to dance and then they should become fond 
of it, as they probably would, you would find that it would be a 
great advantage in the way of preventing them from being- 
troubled in mind on the subject of religion. 

"But, possibly you might some day wish to have them become 
christians and join the church. If you think you would ever feel 
this way about it then in the name of the Lord we beg you not 
to put them into the hands of some empty headed dancing 
master. A dancing Baptist is a burden to the church and a 
grief to the pastor and rarely helps the cause except by waltzing 
back into the world." 



He suffered a stunning blow in the resignation of Dr. Henry 
McDonald and his removal from Richmond. Like twin souls 
they had been linked in royal fellowship for several years. There 
seemed to be love in his very pronunciation of the word, 
"M-c.-D-o-n-a-l-d" The cares and ills of earth might crowd 
their path but they would fling them to the winds and revel in 
each other's company. To take 'McDonald' in his buggy for 
a ride into the country, on a Saturday afternoon, was medicine, 
and a feast. What cared they for the world's rude shocks as 
they turned "Grace's" head towards Manchester and Chester- 
field, cracked the whip and went spinning across the James 
river bridge and — as they went — telling out their bothers, re- 
counting their joys, their plans and their hopes for this life, — 
and sometimes for the life to come. "His departure is bitterness 
to me" he writes "for it tears me asunder from one who for 
years has been the keeper of my soul's secrets and my counselor" 
Be it remembered that in addition to his pastoral, editorial 
and general Denominational work in Richmond he was con- 
stantly "on the run" in Virginia and often in other states. 
Nearly every Summer he supplied churches in New York. It 
was at this time that he spoke at the Social Union in New York 
and preached in Brooklyn. 



POPULARITY IN THE NORTH 177 

A New York writer, in the National Baptist, says: 

"Dr. Hatcher, of Richmond, is the new sensation. He came 
unheralded and, at our Social Union, made a charming speech 
full of facts, good sense and mother wit. He preached in 

Brooklyn and since then several of our strongest 

churches are eager to secure him as a supply." 

He took part in an important discussion at the Southern 
Baptist Convention in Greenville in May. There was a contest 
between the cities of Marion and Atlanta and the question at 
issue was as to whether the Home Mission Board should be 
moved from Marion to Atlanta. Dr. Hatcher favored Atlanta 
and in his speech he said "Marion may be a good place to raise 
children in but if the Home Mission Board proposes to do busi- 
ness for the Lord it ought to be moved to a city like Atlanta." 

"There were other speeches on both sides" says Dr. E. E. 
Folk, "but I think that the speech of Dr. Hatcher, more than 
that of any other one, determined the large majority by which 
the Convention voted to move the Board from Marion to 
Atlanta." 

In the social circle he was usually the central figure. "Noth- 
ing exasperates people more"said Dr. Johnson "than superior 
brilliancy of one in conversation. They seem pleased at the 
time, but their envy makes them curse him in their hearts." 
That was true in Dr. Johnson's literary circle where he roared 
like a lion and ruled like a king. Goldsmith, Garrick and the 
others in that famous coterie acknowledged the brilliant sway 
of the old Philosopher but he knew full well what it meant for 
some of them to applaud him in his flashes of wit and curse 
him afterwards in their envy. But on the other hand Oliver 
Wendell Holmes was the charm of the social circle as well as its 
shining centre. 

Dr. Hatcher was an illustration of the fact that one could be 
a favorite in a social group and a beloved companion at the 
same time. He did not seek prominence when thrown with 



178 IN THE SOCIAL CIRCLE 

others, but there was in him a sunny disposition and a jovial 
spirit, and his conversation had such an originality and sparkle 
in it that the members of the circle generally found themselves 
listening when he spoke. "The art of talking" says Dr. Holmes 
"is one of the fine arts, — the noblest, the most important and 
the most difficult." It was rare that Dr. Hatcher talked simply 
to be interesting and he did not give the impression of aiming at 
effect. "Those were feasting hours for me" said a young 
preacher referring to certain times when he sat in a social group 
in a home in which Dr. Hatcher was visiting. 

Dr. M. B. Wharton refers to conversations that several of 
us enjoyed in his room in Norfolk with Dr. Hatcher as one of 
the group. 

"0 what a time we had! He was the autocrat and we listened, 
we laughed, sometimes we yelled. It was good for the health 
of all; more beneficial in its results than a Summer vacation, 
if it could only have been kept up long enough. We were so 
sorry when he had to leave. Going about my work I have 
frequently yet to stop and laugh at his jokes and the way he 
told them. I want him to write a book of his experiences. It 
would be the best selling book I know of. He has a vein of 
humor as rich as it is rare." 

Notwithstanding the remark of Mr. Humphrey Wagstaff 
that the life of man is too short for a story teller, Dr. Hatcher 
would often tell a story, but, — mark it well reader — it was not 
the threadbare tale, nor the stock anecdote, nor was he like 
those conversationalists which Collins says remind him of 
hand organs; — "We have heard all their tunes." His stories were 
nearly always plucked fresh from his own experience and it 
was in telling them that he played the artist. His stories were 
pictures with as few strokes as possible. He frequently criti- 
cised certain conversationalists for their tedious drawing out 
of their illustrations and for allowing their listeners to antici- 
pate them. 

It is in conversation, more than in public addresses, that the 
real man is seen. That indefinable something, which we call 



IN THE SOCIAL CIRCLE 179 

magnetism, belonged to Dr. Hatcher and it made men draw 
their chairs around his close enough to hear when he began to 
talk. But he was also a good listener. I remember going with 
him one evening during his later life into a home with several 
invited guests and where the parents had told their son that 
Dr. Hatcher was one of the great conversationalists of the day 
and that a rich treat was in store for him. Among the guests 
were two much younger preachers, who held the center of the 
stage during most of the evening, keeping up an animated 
colloquy, while Dr. Hatcher gave quiet attention with only 
occasion incursions into the conversation. 

A brilliant conversationalist is difficult to find. "With thee 
conversing, I forget all time" says Milton, and Longfellow 
declares "a single conversation across the table with a wise 
man is better than ten years of study of books." 

Dr. Hatcher by his patient drill had gained such a mastery 
of words that, not only in public addresses and in literary pro- 
ductions, but in ordinary conversation he used words that clung 
to the memory. I have been startled since his death by the 
number of people who remember things he said in casual talks 
with them. Whenever at this day L meet one who begins to 
speak of him it seems that nearly always the person says " I re- 
member that the first time I ever met Dr. Hatcher he said" — and 
then follows some remark of his that had so impressed the hearer 
at the time by its brightness, or good sense, or humor, or quaint- 
ness, that it had stuck fast in his mind. 

A simple and recent illustration of this may here be men- 
tioned: At a dining a few days ago a lady, to whom I had 
been introduced, said: "The first time I met Dr. Hatcher, he 
asked me if I was married, and when I told him 'No,' he said, 
'Well, there is some blockhead walking around over the earth.' " 

Concerning Edmund Burke Dr. Johnson said that no man of 
sense could meet him under a gateway to avoid a shower without 
being convinced that he was the very first man of England. 



180 THE CARAVAN 

"If he should go into a stable and talk a few minutes with the 
hostlers about horses they would say, 'We have had an extra- 
ordinary man here." "Goldsmith wrote like an angel and 
talked like poor Poll." Dr. Johnson was such a belligerent 
talker that he brooked no rival; "if his pistol missed fire he 
knocked down his antagonist with the butt of it." Old Thomas 
Carlyle, as a conversationalist, was built very much on the 
same pattern. He would not only object and question and 
contradict, but, ofttimes, with his loud tones and vehement 
manner, would bear down all opposition before him. 

During the next Summer Dr. Hatcher gathered a party of 
Baptist preachers and laymen for a journey by private con- 
veyance across the mountains into Southwest Virginia to a 
remote section, where the Baptists were scattered and weak. 
He styled the party 'The Caravan" and they went to attend 
the New Lebanon Association. "The Caravan" said he. . . 
"moved out of Glade Spring on the morning of the 23rd of 
August and turned its face towards the far away hills of Russell" 

A jovial party it was as it jolted and laughed its Way over the 
mountains, and their happy chats and swelling music bright- 
ened the ride and left their echoes in the vales. At one o'clock 
the horses were reined in and the travelers alighted in a grove 
of sugar maples. 

"A kind old bachelor farmer, Mr. Robert Cummings, had 
compassion on the jaded travelers" said Dr. Hatcher "and 
brought out chairs, glasses and milk and there on the shaded 
lawn we had a happy picnic." 

The most interesting sight to him, however, was the old 
man himself, — living alone there in the mountains. He en- 
gaged him in conversation, thereby bringing out the fact that 
he was unmarried. "Wifeless and alone, the dear old man was" 
said Dr. Hatcher "and the bare suggestion of matrimony 
crimsoned his cheek with blushes, but the memory of his hand- 
some treatment of the Caravan will henceforth seal my lips, 
when I am tempted to cut at the crustiness of old bachelors. 
As the golden tints of the setting sun were dying into early 



THE NEW LEBANON 181 

twilight the Caravan swept down the long rocky hills and found 
itself in Lebanon." 

This visit of the "Brethren from the East" at the New 
Lebanon marked an epoch with the little mountain Association. 
Happy hours of fellowship were spent, sermons and addresses 
delivered by these brethren and a warm invitation extended to 
the New Lebanon brethren to come to the General Association 
in Richmond on the next November and be the guests of 
the Richmond Baptists. But this was not all. As the salaries 
of the pastors in that mountain section were wofully meager, 
arrangements were made for paying their expenses to the 
Richmond Convention on the next Fall. Dr Hatcher wrote 
in the Herald regarding the Association: 

"The Metropolis [Richmond] may look for a stalwart dele- 
gation from the New Lebanon and I now bespeak for them 
entertainment as cordial and cheerful as that which they have 
so nobly extended to the brethren from the East. The New 
Lebanon Caravan must have good quarters when it reaches 
Richmond." 

He was in his element in that mountain Association as he 
was seeking to make the visit of the Caravan cheering and 
helpful to the New Lebanon brethren. Dr. C. L. Cocke wrote 
that Dr. Hatcher's sermons and addresses "excited great en- 
thusiasm." He sought to strengthen the tie between the Bap- 
tists of the Southwest and those of the other section of the 
state and in this hope he was not disappointed. This desire to 
bring the Baptists of different sections to know and love each 
other better showed itself also in his attitude towards his north- 
ern Baptists brethren. It has already been told in these pages how 
quick he was to extend the hand of Christian fellowship to his 
Northern brethren after the Civil War, with all its bitterness, had 
closed. Often in his home he would extend warm-hearted 
hospitality to northern visitors in Richmond. On one oc- 
casion — it must have been a few years before this time — a 
large New England Baptist Excursion was run into the South. 



182 THE BAPTISTS 

r 

They stopped over in Richmond and were given a welcome 
service at the First Baptist Church. The front seats in the 
church were reserved for the visitors, in number between seventy- 
five and one hundred. A wonderfully cordial greeting was 
accorded to the visitors who expressed their grateful delight 
but probably the most striking picture in the scene was that 
of Dr. Hatcher standing on the lower platform after one of the 
Northern brethren had expressed his amazement and pleasure 
at the christian welcome which they were receiving. Dr. 
Hatcher lifted his hand in emphatic gesture saying to the New 
England brethren in front of him: "If you are surprised at this 
demonstration of christian love for you, our brethren of the 
North, let me say to you that there is not a section of Virginia 
where you could not be given a similar expression of frater- 
nity." 

One fact that kindled his interest in the people at that as- 
sociation in Southwest Virginia was that they were Baptists. 
It is very true that he joined forces with every Protestant de- 
nomination and hailed their members as his brethren in Christ. 
But for his Baptist people, — especially if they were isolated and 
beset by hardships and condemned to severe struggling, — he 
had a special place in his heart. 

"One thing we may be sure of" he once said "the future will 
be peopled with Baptists. If the enginery of the past has failed 
to exterminate the Baptists in their weakness, now that they 
are a great host and the old enginery is out of order, their 
worst enemies can hardly expect their extermination. 

"Baptists are bound to live; they are on the programme of 
the ages and must be on hand to answer. The fact is they 
have a large contract on hand. — unfinished business — and they 
must stay over and attend to it. 

With such an ambition about his denomination he put honor 
everwhere upon his Baptist brethren. These country Baptists 
touched his heart, — especially their old preachers. He paid 
them, at this time, a loving tribute, in the Herald, beginning 
with the words: 



THE OLD PREACHERS 183 

"The plain old preacher is always seen at the District Asso- 
ciation." 

After writing in kindly fashion about the old man, he thus 
continues : 

"In a few fleeting years his Redeemer will take him home. 
Do not tread on him, nor push him coldly aside. When he 
comes give him the best seat; hear him with the best attention 
and gladden his old age with every possible deed of brightness 
and love." 

At one of the Associations this Summer, the following inci- 
dent as told by him occured: 

"The other day we heard the plain old man make a speech 
at his Association. It was a rugged, noisy, stormy speech, — 
but it was the best the dear old saint could do. It had the 
one sanctifying merit of thorough earnestness. We confess we 
were touched by the spell of his power and forgot the blemishes 
that so palpably marked his effort. By accident our eye fell 
on a young man, — a prim and starched Collegian, — who has it 
in mind to be a minister and we were wounded to find him in a 
convulsion of merriment and laughter. He saw nothing in the 
old brother's tender and earnest manner to attract and move 
him." 

This paragraph in the Herald had a curious sequel several 
month afterwards. One day a young preacher approached 
him and said in a somewhat angry tone : 

"Dr. Hatcher, you wrote something against me in the 
Herald which I felt was a personal attack on me." 

"Do tell me what it was, my young brother." 

"That article you wrote about the young minister whom you 
saw laughing at the speech which an old preacher was making." 

"Well, did you laugh at the old preacher?" 

"Yes, I did, but I meant no harm by it; and besides I do 
not think you ought to have made a public example of me in that 
way." 

After telling of the above conversation, Dr. Hatcher thus 
concluded, "We had only to say to the angry Collegian that 
he was not the man to whom we referred." 



184 DYING AS A BEAST 

He loved young preachers but to the old he extended rever- 
ential and affectionate treatment. If the roll could be called 
of the old preachers in Virginia who were brought in touch with 
him during their later years, I believe their testimony would be 
unanimous that in William E. Hatcher they found a kindly and 
filial consideration that made them often lean upon him and 
that always made him a welcome visitor for them in Associa- 
tional gatherings, in their home circles, or wherever they might 
meet. 

One day, during the Summer while riding on the cars, "a 
hard cold faced man, with a cutting, bitter voice" came across 
the car and sat down by him and drew him into a chat. He was 
always glad of a neighborly conversation, while traveling on 
the train, but the look and manner of this man repelled him. 

"I have lived on four continents, "said he, with an air of 
bravado "and I have seen the world on every side and I have 
found that there is no honor among men and no virtue among 
women." 

"May I ask what is your religious belief?" ventured Dr. 
Hatcher. 

"I believe that the Bible is a fraud and that there is nothing 
beyond the grave." 

"Do you expect to perish at death as a common beast?" 

"Yes." 

"Ah well" replied Dr. Hatcher "If you expect to die as a 
beast, I cannot find fault if you live as a beast and if you think 
men and women are as soulless as a brute I cannot see why you 
should ever have supposed that there could be any honor 
among men or virtue in women." 



CHAPTER XVII 

1882-1883. 

PASTORAL VISITS AND PASTORAL EXPERIENCES. TRIP TO TEXAS 
AND MEXICO. DEATH OF THE TWINS. THE CARAVAN. 

On his return, each Fall, from his Summer rovings he seemed 
to leap to his pastoral tasks with a new enthusiasm. "Capital 
days are these for pastoral visiting" he writes on Oct. 5th. "It 
is indeed a luxury to be abroad in this bracing Autumnal air." 
He gives in another place a breezy sketch of some of his trials 
in pastoral visiting: 

"We know what it is to bang and rattle and wait at the front 
door and after so long a time to have the woman open the door 
and say with a light laugh that she heard the noise but thought 
it was Carlos which is one of the smartest dogs in the world 
trying to get in to the house. We know what it is to stand at 
the front gate with a big-tooth old growler on the inside and 
the woman cry out from the second story window, 'Why dont 
you come in. I hardly think the dog will bite.' We know what 
it is to come into the parlor and have a little black terrier get 
under our chair, bark and nibble at our calves while the woman 
of the house says, 'Why, Tip; why dont you stop, you are real 
bad today.' All this and more of hardship and cruelty we have 
borne in the discharge of pastoral duty and we are willing to 
stand the ills which the future may bring, but there is one depth 
of degradation to which we will not go. Women may have 
their pet dogs if they will. They may bring them into the 
parlor and we will be silent. They may hold them in their 
laps and hug and kiss them as they choose and we will be quiet. 
They may take their canine darlings with them on the streets 
and even to church and we will be tranquil and sober. But 
we draw the line deep and sharp on pet dogs. We will not 

185 



(\ 



186 DR. W. W. LANDRUM 

descend to the depths of cajoling and caressing a pet dog. On 
that point we are fixed. Pet dogs are spoiled, conceited and 
ever prone to excessive self assertion. They look upon human 
people as creatures designed to wait upon and provide for 
them. They always think they are superior to their own and 
some serious persons declare that in exceptional cases they have 
a good ground for thinking so. We will pet children, admire 
new houses and new furniture and rave appropriately over 
pictures and flowers. We will hear the oldest daughter play all 
of her exercises on the piano and listen to young John repeat 
his pretty little speech which his maiden aunt taught him. We 
will at the risk of dyspepsia eat the jelly, taste the fruit cake 
and stain our fingers with home made candy. Indeed we are 
in for the war and are willing to go as far as the next man in 
making it bright and agreeable to the fastidious and exacting 
saints of the earth, but there is a limit at which we put our 
foot down and defy all of the dog worshippers of the earth to 
shake us. Be it known that when the Lord called us to preach 
he did not mention the petting of pet dogs as one of our official 
duties." 

A new friend came into his life at this time, — Dr. W. W. 
Landrum — who became Dr. McDonald's successor at the 
Second Baptist Church. 

A Welcome Service was given Dr. Landrum, at which Dr. 
Hatcher delivered an address to the new pastor, which was not 
only published but awakened considerable comment. "On hear- 
ing it," said Dr. Landrum, "I determined to accep tit and live 
by it. . . It ought to have been published in a book. "The 
address began with the words : 

"In coming from Augusta to Richmond you have changed 
your field, but not your work." 

He closed as follows: 

"You must pardon me for saying that it is with something 
of sadness that I see you take the place held for five years by my 
ever cherished and beloved McDonald. What a blessed and 
helpful friend he was to me. My soul has wept tears of blood 
at his going from me and I have not been able to pass this 



THE SOCIAL ELEMENT 187 

church since he went without finding a cloud of sorrow gathering 
over my heart. But, my brother, I open my arms to you and 
so far as I can I am ready to help you." 

His speaking engagements were varied. A Convention at 
this time secured him for a twenty minutes speech. The 
president announced: "We will now have an address by Dr. W. 
E. Hatcher, on 'The social element in Christianity.' " 

Coming to the front, Dr. Hatcher began : 

"Mirabile Dictu! What a colossal theme! I have the social 
element in me, but I cannot prove it by becoming familiar 
with this far-spreading topic within the fleeting period of 
twenty minutes and I most meekly implore our grave president 
not to dock me for the time already spent in announcing what 
I am to talk about. I must commit my frail bark to the un- 
certain seas, bidding adieu to illustrations and punctuation 
marks, steering straight for the main point and not knowing 
what moment I may fall beneath the blow of unfriendly fate." 

Regarding the social element he said: "It is in Christianity, 
but it is not Christianity. The Social element is the servant 
of the King. It is the porter-girl who serves at the gate. She 
may deck herself in bright adorning and serve with winning 
courtesies, but we must see that strangers do not come to court 
the maid rather than honor the king." 

In February he spoke at the Baptist Congress in Lynchburg 
and made an amusing comment on a speech by Dr. J. W. M. 

W s who had said that preachers ought to put more 

variety in their order of exercises in their Sunday services 
and by such changes in the programmes fool the devil. Dr. 
Hatcher, after remarking that a good nap in church was better 
than being kept awake by the juggling antics of a sensational 
preacher then took up the Doctor's suggestion about outwit- 
ting the devil and said that while there were many hard things 
that might be said against His Satanic Majesty, yet they surely 
must admit one thing and that was that the devil was no fool. 
The manner in which he made this last remark brought down 
the house. 



188 THE WRONG TROUSERS 

A new suit of clothes was presented to him by his ladies. 
Mrs. B. B. Van Buren, who was president of the organization 
that presented him with the suit, says : 

"On the Sunday after Dr. Hatcher had received the suit 

I was sitting in a pew with Mrs. T , a member of the 

society, who had been active in raising the money for the pas- 
toral gift and she naturally felt great interest in it. When Dr. 
Hatcher came into the pulpit that morning he had on the new 
coat but he wore trousers of a different make. She began to 
twist and frown and seemed restless and uncomfortable and 
indignantly whispered to me: 

" 'Just look at Dr. Hatcher; I dont believe he has on the 
trousers of our new suit".' No sooner was the service ended 
than this lady, who was a devoted friend and admirer of her 
pastor, hurried up to the pulpit platform where the pastor was 
busy shaking hands. She stood there in the group of people 
eyeing him so curiously — especially the lower half of him — 
that he drew back and began to eye her saying 'Well, what 
are you scanning me so closely for? What is the trouble?' 
She answered with a show of impatience: 'Why, Doctor, you 
have not got on our trousers.' 'Your trousers?' he replied 
with a burst of surprise. 'Mercy alive woman and do the very 
trousers that I wear belong to you?' " 

During the Winter and Spring much of his time was occu- 
pied in speaking, writing, attending conferences, committee 
meetings, etc., and all this was in addition to his mul- 
titudinous pastoral duties. A trip to Waco, Texas, in May, 
to the Southern Baptist Convention made a sunny break in his 

crowded life. One day in the Convention Dr. arose 

and said in substance: "Bro. Moderator, I move that it be 
declared the rule of this Convention that no collection shall be 
taken at the meetings of this Convention." 

Dr. Hatcher arose to oppose the motion and Dr. E. E. Folk 
thus describes the incident: 

"It was late at night when Dr. Hatcher got the floor in 
opposition to the resolution, but he held every member of the 
Convention in his seat until the close of his speech. In all my 
life I think I have never heard a speech quite so full of wit and 



TEXAS AND MEXICO 189 

humor and ridicule and sarcasm. The Convention was con- 
stantly convulsed with laughter and completely converted to 
his way of thinking. At the conclusion of his speech, the senti- 
ment of the Convention was evidently so overwhelming in 

opposition to the resolution that Dr. N arose and 

asked to withdraw it. This triumph of oratory was all the 
more remarkable because Dr. Hatcher was in the wrong, as 
every one since, including himself, has come to recognize." 

His Waco visit added a bright new chapter to his life and also 
put Mexico on his programme. 

From Waco he went with an excursion party of delegates, 
into Mexico and upon his return to Richmond he wrote about 
his journey and his pen must have been in playful mood. 

"Be it known to all swelling tourists" he writes "that we have 
had a mild case of foreign travel. True, we did not go far, 
nor stay long, nor see very much, nor get much original matter 
out of the Mexicans. But this matters little. We have been 
abroad. We crossed the Rio Grande and tasted the rapture 
of seeing another country. It makes us feel expansive; it 
lifts us out of the untraveled herd and gives us a name and a 
rank among the great. No more will we sit, a wild-eyed simple- 
ton, to admire the pompous airs of the man who has been. If 
we cannot cream our public addresses with 'When I was in 
Rome/ we can at least, hereafter, say with lofty majesty, 
'During my somewhat extended sojourn in Monterey/ and 
we fancy that that will mightily thrill the popular ear." 

The Texas-Mexico trip was of a variegated hue, and, as he 
said, "the bitter mingled with the sweet and trials jostled with 
our pleasures." For example, he wore a beaver hat, — but let 
him tell of the tragedy: 

"It was a new hat; a costly beaver laid in for Waco; — the 
climax of fashion and fondly prized. That hat and Dr. Chaplin 
undertook to occupy the same seat in the car at the same 
moment. When we reached the scene Chaplin was serene but 
the hat was invisible. A crumbled wreck was our headgear 
for the rest of the way. But we never blamed the hat." 

Other disasters were lurking for him on Mexican soil, one of 
which was his arrest by a Mexican officer. 



190 DEATH OF ELSIE 

"But the crisis of our misfortunes came" said he "when we 
fell a victim in the hands of the Mexican law with the tawny 
dwarf of a Mexican soldier escorting us through a public 
market. The ground of our abridged liberty was an alleged 
crookedness on our part in the purchase of a twenty five cent 
basket. We are pleased to report that we confronted our 
accuser and retired from the scene of the conflict with our 
basket swinging in peaceful triumph at our side. This did not 
prevent those venerable knights of the pencil, Col. Lawton of 
the Index and Dr. Caperton of the Western Recorder from 
laughing mightily at us in our calamity. Nor did it clip the 
pinions of the fast flying rumor that a Richmond editor had 
been before a Monterey court, — which same thing was happily 
untrue. We give it as our experience that it is a perilous thing 
for a man to buy baskets in an unknown tongue. We bought 
one and do not wish to increase our stock." 

At his eighth pastoral anniversary in May his church mem- 
bership was announced as being 928. He had at this time 
eight children — Eldridge, May, Orie, Kate, Elizabeth, Edith 
and the twins, Brantly and Elsie, who were just one year 
old. 

The Summer brought a cutting sorrow for him. He had 
many hopes wrapped up in little Brantly and Elsie, With the 
Summer's heat came sickness and finally the little invalids 
were hurried off to the mountains, but at New Market, in 
Nelson County, they were stopped and the father was sent for. 
"At the dawn of Saturday morning" he writes "we found one 
dead, another extremely low and the rest stricken and crushed. 
Truly, a day of deep shadow that one might pray to forget. 
And yet it must abide in our memory, not only because hal- 
lowed by a sacred sorrow, but because brightened by the beau- 
tiful deeds of others." 

It was a mournful journey that he made to Richmond where, 
in Hollywood, by lantern light, and accompanied by Drs. 
Landrum, Hawthorne and Shipman, the little body of Elsie 
was buried. Sad of heart, he turned his face towards the 
mountain to resume his Summer travels. 



DEATH OF BRANTLY 191 

He met a gentleman with whom he was destined to be linked 
in royal friendship, Judge Jonathan Haralson and the meeting 
place was the Blue Ridge Springs. They were together for 
several days at the Springs and he seemed like a boy with a new 
treasure. They played ten pins, took walks and spent many 
hours in conversation. 

He was still indulging golden dreams about little Brantly, — 
about his developement into boyhood and youth. But a bitter 
grief was in store for him. He thus writes: 

"That night we slept in Liberty — No we did not sleep but 
through the weary night we lay with a new wound in our heart, 
asking for a helping smile from a chastening father. Another 
light on our path had gone out — another sweet hope was dead 
and in the gray dawn of the morning we quit Bedford with 
scarcely a thought of all that it contains of all that is precious 
to us. A day's lone journeying, and at eventide we stood beside 
the tiny white coffin in which our baby was asleep." 

At the side of Elsie, in Hollywood, they laid Brantly. 

He must bury his sorrow in his work and so in a short while 
he turns his face again towards the mountains. 

The reader remembers the journey of the " Caravan" of the 
previous Summer when Dr. Hatcher and a party of preachers 
and laymen traveled into the mountains of Southwest Virginia 
to carry greetings to their brethren of the Lebanon As- 
sociation. It had been decided to repeat the experiment and to 
organize a larger Caravan for the present Summer. Among 
those who joined the party were Drs. J. L. M. Curry, E. C. 
Dargan, C. L. Cocke, A. E. Owen and others, and it must have 
produced a little sensation in that Lebanon Association when 
these brethren from other portions of the state drove into their 
midst. 

From Glade Spring he writes to his wife on Aug 17th: 

"I am now in J. R. Harrison's study and Dr. is 

preaching in the church very near to me. He is raving like a 
madman. His voice is broken and he is ranting his life out of 



192 THE CARAVAN 

him. D has been doing some most violent ranting also 

and even S has been on a snort and much to his own 

regret. He says that he is going to cultivate a cooler manner. 
I am grieved and shocked by the useless and grating vehemence 
of our speakers. It is not the way to preach the gospel." 

During the Association Dr. Hatcher preached and, at the 
close, an old sister expressed her elation over the sermon by 
indulging in a shout. Some of the delegates of the Caravan 
thought they discovered some humor in the episode and 
gave the following account of it: 

" After Dr. Hatcher's sermon a collection was taken and the 
collectors reported that when the hat was passed to the lady 
who had made so much noise over the sermon she gave not a 
penny." 

The Caravan considered this a great joke on Doctor Hatcher 
who replied: 

"If it could be shown that the woman had any money and 
refused to give, the case would be suggestively melancholy, 
but it may have been that she had not even two mites." 

Sunday marked the end of their stay at the Association. 

"After preaching on Sunday morning" he writes "we set 
our faces eastward and after a crushing drive we reached 
Abingdon several hours in the night. Near the edge of the town 
and beneath the gleaming stars we came to a mournful pause — 
shook hands and adjourned the Caravan. Its broken fragments 
scattered away in the deep darkness, each going his own chosen 
path. In company with Owen and Kincannon we caught a pass- 
ing train and at midnight were in Bristol. 

"Adieu, adieu to the Caravan of 1883. It is numbered with 
the happy things that were. Even now its members are scat- 
tered afar and will not all meet again beneath the silver maples. 
But are there not trees, on some far off plain, where we shall 
meet again? Amen, so let it be." 

To his wife he writes, "I was never so sad as I have been since 
Brantly's death. I did not love him any more than I did Elsie 



JUDGE HARALSON 193 

but I had hopes of raising him. My heart has been sore." He 
returned to the Blue Ridge Springs for a few days and renewed 
his friendship with judge Haralson, concerning whom he writes 
in the Herald : 

"God has given us many kind and loving friends and we can 
not cease to be grateful for them but we have not one in all the 
earth whom we love with a more clinging and trustful friend- 
ship than the Hon. Jon. Haralson of Selma, Alabama. He 
pleased us even unto vanity when he told us that he had been 
watching the trains every day for a week in the hope of pulling 
us off the cars as we came back from our mountain rambles. 
Not in appearance, but in voice, movement, spirit and general 
loveliness of character, he constantly reminds us of that other 
jewel of our heart, Dr. Henry McDonald. If the Judge will 
move to Virginia the Herald will nominate him for Gover- 



He attended the Valley Association at the Mill Creek church 
in Botetourt County and here he had a little experience with 
a mountain boy that meant much for the boy. This lad's name 
was Robert Dogan, who, at this writing, is pastor of the 
Fulton Avenue Baptist Church of Baltimore City. On a 
Summer's day in 1883, in company with a few friends, he walked 
across the mountain to attend for the first time a Baptist 
Association. It was a great occasion for him and he thus 
describes his visit: 

"Dr. Hatcher fairly charmed me by his eloquence and 
sparkling witticisms as he spoke in behalf of the Religious 
Herald [of which he was one of the editors.] I think I gave him 
my last dollar on a subscription to the Herald as I was anxious 
to read anything that such a man would write. 

"After the adjournment we had gathered at a little railroad 
station near by. I was anxious to hear these learned men talk, 
so I stood at a respectful distance listening to the conversation 
which was interspersed with amusing jokes. 

"While thus engaged, Dr. Hatcher left his companions, came 
to me and said: 'Boy, what is your name?' I was abashed and 
flattered that this great man should speak to me or take any 
notice of me. In a kind and gentle voice he asked me many 



194 INSPIRING A MOUNTAIN BOY 

questions which I tried to answer to my best advantage. As the 
train rolled up he took me by the hand, looked kindly into my 
face and said: 'I am your friend and can help you in securing 
an education if you need me.' Then placing his hand tenderly 
on my shoulder he said 'Boy, I hope God will make a preacher 
of you some day.' 

"Those words sounded to me like a prayer. They awakened 
in my soul a latent hope of something of which I had scarcely 
dared to dream before. The weight of that hand sent an im- 
pulse into my young life that has remained throughout the pass- 
ing years. I was the happiest boy alive when about one year 
later, I wrote my name in the matriculation books at Roanoke 
College." 






CHAPTER XVIII. 

1883. 

COTTAGE FOR COUNTRY PASTOR. A CITY PASTORATE. CONVENTION 
AT BALTIMORE. ON THE WING. "ALONG THE BAPTIST LINES" 

His vacation season, — so full of lights and shadows — melts 
away and he finds himself in Richmond at the gateway of 
another pastoral year. He preaches on " A Strike for Strangers' ' 
using the text in Matthew 22:9: "Go ye into the parting of the 
highways and as many as ye find bid to the marriage feast." 

He set his heart upon securing a home for a country pastor 
whom he knew was struggling upon a meager salary % He 
wrote as follows in the Herald of Sept. 20th. 

"Here is a pathetic item which we beg that all cold and nar- 
row people will not read. They will not enjoy it and we prefer 
that they will jump over it and try the next paragraph. 

"There is a certain Baptist preacher in Virginia who sur- 
rendered at Appomattox Court House with General Lee in 
1865, after four years in the war, and who came home ragged 
and without a penny in his pocket. From that day he has 
been a country pastor, struggling along on a small salary — 
barely enough to keep him above the waves of debt." 

He then proceeds to make an appeal for funds to purchase a 
Cottage for the pastor. 

Every few weeks thereafter he would drop into his columns a 
little jotting about the "Cottage", and the result was that the 
appeal was heard, the contributions flowed in and at this date, 
Nov. 20th, 1914, this same preacher, — now too aged and infirm 
for the work of the pastorate which he last winter resigned — 

195 



196 THE METROPOLITAN PASTORATE 

is still living in the same "Cottage" which sprang into life and 
beauty through the kind efforts of his friend, Dr. Hatcher. 

Once more it must be mentioned that the "disturbing 
element" in his church were still on his track and their 
opposition would often be discussed around our family 
fireside, after the children were in bed — though I know one 
child who often lingered around the hearth stone and with 
youthful indignation heard father and mother talk about the 
"troubles". 

But he seemed confident that God had his work in hand. 
His life at this time was crowded with tasks of preaching, 
visiting, lecturing, dedicating churches, attending committee 
and Board meetings, — but how vain to attempt to catalogue 
all his goings and all his labors. He thus refers to the whirl 
and rush of a city pastorate : 

"There is something in the glare, conspicuity and glamour 
of a metropolitan pastorate, but, Oh, the fret, the strain, the 
death of it all." 

He is sounding an alarm to those young preachers who 
despise the small and unshowy pastorates and chafe and strug- 
gle for the prominent city churches: 

"These high places"said he "are never wisely sought. They 
are tolerable only when they seek the man and even when they 
are held by an overstrain and lost by a breakdown. . . . 
Do not clamor for the heights; they are cold and slippery. If 
they need you up there they will call down for you and then 
you may go up, but do not be caught waiting at the bottom." 

"Now churches are institutions Once it was 

a sermon or two, on Sunday, a few calls during the week, but 
now it is services, committees, societies, clubs, entertainments, 
culture or literary classes, missions, charities, or what not 
almost every night. To guard, foster and develope these is the 
complicated care of the pastor. . . . His duties, like the 
mercies of God, are renewed unto him every morning and 
pursue him every night in his dreams. 

"The day for the long haired, isolated, wild eyed preacher is 
past. It requires a real human being to be a preacher in these 
days. 



HIS SUNNY NATURE 197 

"Gentlemen beware of that invisible jury which will ever have 
your case in hand and is liable to bring in its verdict any night 
while you are asleep and you may wake up next morning to 
receive your fate." 

Notwithstanding his heavy strains his cheerfulness never 
forsook him. His sunny nature showed itself in his counten- 
ance, his conversation and in his varied activities. I remember 
that once, when as a boy driving with him in the buggy, and 
mymind was dwelling on the subject of "happiness" I asked 
him. "Papa, are you perfectly happy?" "Happy?" he said, 
as if he was hardly acquainted with the word. "Why my hap- 
piness comes from my work. If I am doing that, I am happy." 
His words and his manner of uttering then dropped a new idea 
into the mind of the boy at his side who up to that time had 
never thought of "work" and "happiness" as living together 
on such close terms. Says Carlyle "The only happiness a 
brave man ever troubled himself with asking much about was 
happiness enough to get his work done." Carlyle went at his 
tasks with grim ferocity, but, alas, he had not the christian 
hope to light his pathway as he toiled. It was said of Cromwell 
however that "hope shone like a fiery pillar in him when it had 
gone out in all others." The sun of Dr. Hatcher's happiness 
rarely sank below the horizon. 

"Away with those fellows who go howling through life and 
all the while passing for birds of Paradise", says Beecher . "He 
that cannot laugh and be gay should look to himself." It was 
this same preacher who said that some people go through life 
as a band of music passes down the street flinging melody and 
gladness on all sides. One of Dr. Hatcher's members wrote 
him "The very sight of you on the street at times when I have 
been burdened with care has been a blessing to me." 

He drew happiness not only from his work, but he seemed 
to find it everywhere: "I have often said" he remarked "that 
my life has been a succession of pleasant surprises." His jovial 
spirits brightened his home. It was about this time that he had 
several Richmond College students living in his home and the 



198 FAILING ON A SERMON 

genial fun around the table mingled with his words of sober- 
ness and counsel. One of the young men, Rev. P. G. Elsom, 
in speaking of how Dr. Hatcher helped him by his "cheerful- 
ness" said: "He could bring a smile to a tombstone. He gath- 
ered preachers often at his home and the merriment he would 
create was a feast to us boys." Dr, C. H. Dodd happily de- 
scribed him as "The man who made the years his friend." 
The following editorial jotting from his pen seems to indicate 
that one of his sermons at this time had a narrow escape from 
shipwreck : 

"It is easy to fail on a thoroughly prepared sermon. A head- 
ache, or a crying child, or a drowsy deacon, or a sultry morning, 
or a cold house, or an overheated house, or an empty house, 
or a bad liver, or a sleepless Saturday night, or a hoarse voice, 
or a grumbling tooth, or too much breakfast, or a hitch in the 
singing, or a squad of giggling young people in the gallery, or a 
fainting woman, or a rattling window, or a few ostentatiously 
late comers, or a blundering sexton, or an unmanageable cravat, 
or the ringing of the fire bells, or a thunder storm, or several 
other things, needless now to enumerate, may leap in upon the 
poor vessel of clay and knock the very marrow out of his sermon. 
In such cases let preachers have common sense and they may 
rise superior to such annoyances," 

He delivered an address at the Social Union in Baltimore 
on April 10th on "The Southern Baptist Convention", and one 
month later in that same city, he attended the meeting of this 
Convention where we find him engaged in his favorite practice 
of lifting a brother over a rough place. 

"At the conclusion of the evening service, Dr. W. E. Hatcher 
asked that a collection be taken to enable brother Langley to 
build a house of worship on his mission field in Florida; it was 
done and a handsome sum raised." 

He also spoke in the Baltimore Convention on "The Church 
Building Fund" and Dr. Edward Bright, the editor of the New 
York Examiner, wrote that the address was "as fine a specimen 
of terse and vigorous English as he had ever heard." 



TAFFY 199 

Dr. Bright's visit to the Convention had an amusing sequel. 

It provoked a little editorial tilt between Dr. L and 

Dr. Hatcher, which came about as follows : 

Dr. Bright was an eminent Baptist layman from the North 
and consequently the Convention in Baltimore accorded him 
an exceedingly fraternal welcome. The cordiality of the wel- 
come touched his heart and his response was couched in warm, 
kindly tones. 

There was one gentleman however, — Dr. L , editor 

of the J and M , a Northern publication, — 

who, as he read the account of the fraternal incident, thought 
that Dr. Bright' s response to the Convention was "overdone," — 
at any rate he said in his paper that Dr. Bright, in his speech 
to the Southern brethren, was feeding them on taffy. 

Dr. Hatcher read the comment and he made the following 
response in the Herald: 

"Dr. L intimates that Dr. Bright fed the Southern 

Baptists on "taffy". 

"Taffy! Let us pause for reflection. What is taffy? Unluckily 
the word is not in our copy of Webster's Unabridged and so we 

are left at a disadvantage in deciding exactly what Dr. L 

is talking about. We happen to know that taffy is a con- 
fectioner's term and means molasses candy. Does Dr. L 

mean that Dr. Bright came down to Baltimore with his pockets 
loaded with molasses candy and scattered it around among 
Southern Baptists. Dr. Bright did not do it. We asked 
"Langley [the Virginia correspondent of Dr. Bright's paper] 
if Dr. Bright gave him any molasses candy and he smacked 
his lips significantly and said that he did not. If Dr. Bright 
did not give Langley any then he did not have any. That is 
perfectly clear to any rational mind. So the theory of Dr. 
Bright having had molasses candy concealed about his person 
tumbles to the ground. 

"But another point. When Dr. L charges that Dr. 

Bright fed Southern Baptists on taffy that is equal to saying 
that we poor Southern simpletons unsuspectingly swallowed 
the saccharine dose. Does he mean that Southern Baptists are 
fond of flattery, or else that we have not sense to know when 
a man is flattering us. Come, now, this matter is growing 



200 NINTH ANNIVERSARY 

serious. Dr. L swings a two edged sword which, 

while aimed at Dr. Bright, pierces us. Before he knows it he 
will hurt somebody. 

"We beg Dr. L not to be rough on Dr. Bright. He 

may not be successful in running so good a paper as the J 

and M , but he is a christian brother, and we must be 

kind to him. Taffy may not be a first class luxury but it is 
sweeter than vinegar." 

Upon his return from the Convention he celebrated his 
ninth pastoral anniversary and Rev. G. F. Williams thus 
describes the manner in which he spent the day: 

"Dr. Hatcher preached his anniversary sermon in the morn- 
ing and received floral and other tributes of the affection and 
good wishes of his people. After dinner he visited among them 
till three o'clock; he then attended the annual meeting of his 
church, to be gratified by the showing of remarkable progress 
in most departments of their church work. At five o'clock he 
conducted a funeral service. At eight o'clock he preached for 
the Fulton Baptist Church on the opposite side of the city 
from his home; at ten o'clock he reached his home and did 
important writing for two hours before retiring. 

"Dr. Hatcher has grown a trifle grey and this is not to be 
wondered at if his Sundays generally are as busy as his an- 
niversary day." 

His craving for the refreshment of country air and country 
people shows itself in the following : 

"It was just six o'clock on Friday afternoon of last week 
that we rapped at the door of our saintly and excellent sister, 
Mrs. Sarah Sydnor of Hanover County. We drove out on the 
purely selfish errand of basking beneath the shade of her kingly 
oaks, breathing the pure air, escaping the remorseless heats of 
the city and having a quiet evening in her lovely home. 

"Oh, what a bright eyed and gladsome welcome she gave us. 
How rich and ready was her hospitality. To her and that 
matchless domestic philosopher, Miss Francis, we make our 
most grateful obeisance." 

Here is a vivid little picture of one of the multitudinous 
experiences that befell him as he went to and fro over the 
country: 



MOUNTAINEERS 201 

"On our way to the Potomac Association" he writes: "we 
stepped from the New York train at eleven and a half o'clock 
at night and there stood beneath the gas light the towering 
form of 0. F. Flippo, Jr. He had come out at that drowsy hour 
to take charge of this begrimed pilgrim. Upon reaching the 
parsonage, we found the old gentleman — that is, the senior 
Oscar — with his head out at the second story window shouting 
with charming vociferousness, 'Come in brother; come in and 
up. Glad, glad to see you.' 

"What was yet more amazing, he escorted us to the supper 
room and forced us to partake of a rich mid-night festival. 
Flippo's house is a happy retreat for a hungry man — but not 
so attractive a place for a sleepy man — for who can sleep when 
he has Flippo at his best to talk to him. We had a pleasant 
visit, but, even at the risk of losing Flippo's favor, we boldly 
declare that we did not have as happy a visit as we might have 
had and would have had if Mrs. Flippo had been at home. Her 
praise, as a pastor's wife, is on many lips and it was a sore regret 
that we did not see her." 

After preaching in New York he attended the Albemarle 
Association in Amherst County and in a complimentary 
letter in the Herald about the Amherst people he referred to 
them as "stalwart mountaineers". They resented the name 
"mountaineer," as applied to themselves, and Dr. Hatcher, 
upon hearing of it, replied in the Herald: 

"A brother told us that some of the Amherst people were 
offended with us because we spoke of them as "mountaineers." 
Instead of begging their pardon we will make one remark. We 
have never had much to boast of in connection with our own 
history; not noble ancestry, nor wealth, nor genius, nor fame, 
but one thing we have ever loved to boast of and that is that we 
were born in the mountains of Virginia. We count it an honor 
that we are a mountaineer and never weary of upbraiding our 
friends who were so unaccountably foolish as to be born in the 
flat lowlands of Virginia. As a fact we esteem our visit to 
Amherst as among the most charming incidents of our Summer 
campaign and we would indeed be a monster of ingratitude 
if we had written one word to wound those who treated us 
with such delightful consideration." 

From point to point in the state he dashed but there was 



202 ALONG THE BAPTIST LINES 

one little visit, only a few moments in length, that stood out 
in a class by itself. It was a stop that he made at the mountain 
stream in Bedford in which, as a boy, he was baptized. 

"At eight o'clock that morning" he wrote "in company with 
brother M. C. Judd, we left Liberty in an open carriage and 
as we sped along the old familiar road our memory was busy 
with the events of other days and our eyes were feasting upon 
the ever shifting scene of beauty that spread before us, The 
day was faultlessly bright and refreshing and the hills of old 
Bedford were never decked in fairer robes of loveliness than on 
that morning. As we crossed Otter Creek — within a few steps 
of the spot where in our boyhood we were buried in baptism 
with our Redeemer — we could not resist the impulse to alight 
from the carriage and dip our brow once more in its clear and 
placid current. Ah, that happy baptismal day. Can we ever 
forget it." 

Thus his Summer days passed by and September found him 
again in Richmond. The scattered family came trooping back, 
the children were equipped for school and '608 W. Grace' was 
open once more for business. 

His Summer rambles always strengthened the tie between the 
country people and his own church in Richmond, and his 
sermons and addresses during the Summer generally resulted 
in requests to him for return visits in the Fall or Winter months. 

He wrote every week in the Herald one or two columns of 
paragraphs under the heading, "Along the Baptist Lines." 
These paragraphs told of Baptist happenings in the state . 
While he aimed to make his news items interesting for all readers 
yet he gave the preference to those items that would cheer, or 
stimulate, the workers "along the Baptist lines." He delighted 
to single out pastors who were toiling in lonely places, or were 
tugging at difficult tasks with but little reward, and bring 
them into his columns with words of love- and praise, His com- 
ments never dropped into flattery, nor fulsome praise, and he 
sought to pay tributes only to those who merited them. 

But here and there a reader would become disgruntled. A 
gentleman wrote him a letter which ran substantially as follows: 



THE SHOT-GUN POLICY 203 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher: 

"You fill your columns with too much praise of preachers. 
You give us only one side of the situation. You overdo the 
matter and ought not to praise so many people." 

Dr. Hatcher accepted the challenge and announced in the 
Herald of Oct. 30th that he would discontinue his praise of the 
brethren and would in the future seek to gather gloomy items 
for his columns. He told of the critical letter which he had 
received, asked the public to send him only dark and doleful 
tidings. How did the experiment work? 

He answered this question in the Herald of Nov. 6th : 

"After duly nerving our mind up to the shot-gun policy and 
getting on the war paint we sat down to report all the crashes 
collisions and explosions up and down the Baptist lines. But, 
as we dipped our pen in fire and began our deadly business, 
trouble set in upon us like a tornado from every quarter. We 
could not make any headway. Everybody seemed to turn 
against us. Our bloodiest items perished on our hands. 

"First of all, we made a savage drive at Dr. Pollard, begin- 
ning our item thus : 

" 'A perverse world will gloat in demonical rapture to hear 
that the pastor of Leigh Street church [Dr. Pollard] is in very 
bad health and happily growing worse every day' — when in 
walked Pollard with the glow of health upon his face. So that 
paragraph faded out. 

"Then we fancied that we had mortal aim upon another of the 
Richmond pastors and were shaping our thoughts thus; 'We 
hasten with savage joy to record the fact that brother so and 
so made a total and unmitigated break-down in his last Sunday 
night's sermon and is now on the jagged borders of despair; 
when in came a brother who had heard the sermon and declared 
that it was truly a masterly sermon. Away went another item. 

"Next, we thought we had a safe case on brother J. M. Pilcher 
of Petersburg which was to go thus; 'We are pleased to say that 
brother J. M. Pilcher is suffering with a wounded thumb, which 
is steadily growing worse and worse, much to the satisfaction 
of a gainsaying world' when in strode the identical Pilcher, 
serenely announcing that his finger was on the highway to 
recovery. Thereupon item No. 3 vanished. Despairing of 
finding such news as we had promised in Richmond, we turned 



204 A GOOD-NATURED BANTER 

to our mountainous pile of correspondence but it gave us no 
consolation. Not a paragraph of the sulphurous sort could we 
pick up. One man was jubilantly reporting a great revival in 
his church, another was telling of the conversion of his son. 
In short we had not a dot of bad news and we did have budgets 
of juicy and cheery items. What could we do? We had no 
means for starting an establishment for the manufacture of 
dreadful tidings. We could only publish such things as were 
sent us. Such being the state of the case, we are constrained 
to withdraw the promise of last week and do as we have always 
done." 

One day he and Dr. , a prominent minister of the 

Disciples denomination were in a store together and Dr. 
called out saying: 

"Dr. Hatcher, give me a good text for next Sunday. I have 
been so busy that I have not had time to find a one." 

"I have a text that would be particularly suitable for you" 
replied Dr. Hatcher. 'Here it is: — 'Ye blind guides which 
strain out a gnat and swallow a camel.' " 

"That's a very good text" said Dr. "but why do 

you say it is specially a good text for me?" 

"Because you have swallowed "A Campbell" replied Dr. 
Hatcher, with a good natured smile. 

It was his custom every Christmas day to visit the aged 
and the poor of his congregation. 

He was walking along the street in Richmond one day when 
a merchant — a gentleman with whom he maintained very friendly 
relations and often indulged in bantering pleasantries — drove 
up to the curb stone in his buggy and called out: "Doctor, jump 
in and I'll give you a ride the rest of the way," to which Doc- 
tor Hatcher replied as he continued his steps, scarcely looking 
up: 

"No, I thank you; I'm in a hurry." 



CHAPTER XIX 

FRIENDSHIP. D. L. MOODY. VISITS TO THE COUNTRY. CHARLES 
H. PRATT. AIDING STUDENTS 

1884-1885 

One of the dominant traits of his life was his passion for 
friendship. It was not merely his love that he had for men 
as his brothers, but there was a select circle to whom the doors 
of his heart were flung wide open and all that he had was theirs. 
"In every soul" he wrote "there is an inner court — the temple 
where selfhood unveils itself and invites the entrance of friend- 
ship. There faith knows no doubt, love casts out fear and soul 
holds fellowship with soul." He had no patience with the 
motto "treat a friend as if he might become your enemy" His 
career cannot be understood without appreciating what a large 
factor in his life were his friendships. It was in that sacred 
realm that his soul was seen at its best and its worst; there, the 
true William E. Hatcher stood forth as nowhere else and his 
friends looked him through and through and saw him as he 
was. There be some, in this day, who discount friendship, 
and the public press recently has dropped suggestions about 
modern conditions making impossible the friendships of older 
days. Let us not lose our friendships. "True friendship 
between man and man" said a wise writer "is infinite and 
immortal" and truly has it been styled "the sweetener of 
life." 

He had certain friends to whom he became linked in his 
early ministry and to them he clung with undying devotion 
to the end. Among these were Charles H. Ryland, John R. 
Bagby, H. H. Wyer, A. E. Owen and others. He had later 

205 






206 FRIENDSHIP 

friendships with Henry McDonald, W. W. Landrum, T. H. 
Pritchard, Robert H. Winfree — but it is vain to attempt to 
call the roll. 

To tear such friendships, as he had with these men and others, 
out of his life would have been to mangle his entire ministry. He 
carried them in his heart, lived upon their love, entwined much 
of his life around them and drew rich inspiration from 
their fellowship. His soul was built for friendship; it had to 
have it and would have died without it. 

When he heard that his friend John R. Bagby had been 
wounded in the army he set forth to find him and after untold 
difficulties in locating and reaching him he found him so weak 
and helpless that he not only had to shuffle him aboard jolting 
cars and uncomfortable conveyances but he had to carry him 
on his back for a considerable distance, before he could get him 
to his own home where for many weeks he nursed him back 
through the different stages of his recovery. 

One of his richest friendships was that with Dr. Henry 
McDonald. He tells how this friendship began at the South- 
ern Baptist Convention in Richmond in 1876. He heard Dr. 
McDonald make a speech and he says regarding it: 

"Candidly speaking, it was not his form, features, argument, 
eloquence, — nothing audible, nor visible, that attracted me. The 
j oy of the hour to me was the discovery of a man. Back of all else 
was a personality, so simple, so stately, so tender and so win- 
some, that I surrendered on the spot. He touched certain chords 
of my being that had never been swept before. New fountains 
of joy opened in my soul. Without introduction, or apology, 
he entered into my life, into the inner court of my being without 
knocking at the door, without sending in his card. He was 
in before I knew it and strangely enough, a room all furnished 
and ready, awaited his coming. 

I knew him instantly, about as well as I ever knew him 
afterwards." 

Side by side they labored as pastors in Richmond for several 
years until Dr. McDonald moved to Atlanta. "His departure 



FRIENDSHIP 207 

from Richmond" said Dr. Hatcher "was like a burial to me. 
It did not break our bonds, but it separated us and the isolation 
which he left behind was an oppression. . . Separation 
made no difference. We met in after times, just as we parted, 
and began just where we left off. Our wrangles were incessant 
and while they rattled, they never strained, our bonds." It 
was just about this time that he and Dr. McDonald met one 
day in the Summer at the Baptist headquarters in New York. 
He thus draws the picture: 

" While chatting with these brethren, in came that ever 
beloved friend of my heart, Dr. Henry McDonald. I did not 
salute him with a kiss, though I have seen two cases of masculine 
kissing during my visit; but I attested my affection for Mc- 
Donald by a spontaneous and warmly reciprocated embrace. 
We had nearly six hours together — hours of untold comfort 
and strength to me. We loitered along the streets rode the 
cars, crossed the ferries, pretended to see the sights, but to me 
the sight of McDonald's face was a vision of beauty that made 
New York stale and insipid." 

At a later time he tells of another little reunion with this 
same friend : 

"We were sitting in our study, last Friday in a rather sombre 
frame of mind; the past looked unsatisfactory and even the 
future took on a cerulean tint. We were on the murky edge of 
melancholy and felt that life consisted of blasted hopes and a 
few gray hairs. There then was a rap at the door and in sprang 
our beloved McDonald of Georgia. He had been holding 
a meeting at Wake Forest College and had with his excellent 
geographic accuracy, decided that the shortest route from North 
Carolina to Georgia was by the way of Richmond. He was in 
magnificent health, cherry and radiant, full of hope and a 
panacea for all our sorrows. He reported the conversion of 
twenty Wake Forest students, chatted brightly for half an 
hour about the good things of the kingdom, and then departed, 
but the charm of his spirit abode with us and we were on the 
mountain top for the rest of the day." 

Many of his friendships, like that with Dr. McDonald, 



208 FRIENDSHIP 

seemed to open upon him suddenly. "Procure not friends in 
haste and, when thou hast a friend, part not with him in haste" 
says Solon the lawgiver; a wise rule, without doubt, for him who 
sets forth to find a friend. But in Dr. Hatcher's case his 
choicest friendships seemed to find him and broke upon him 
as a revelation. "The moment of finding a fellow creature" 
says George Eliot is often as full of mingled doubt and ex- 
ultation as the moment of finding an idea." In his moment 
of finding his friends, however, there was the exultation without 
the doubt. He raised no interrogation points over his friend- 
ships. He cared not for the counsel, "before you make a 
friend eat a bushel of salt with him." Verily let many bushels 
of salt be eaten first, if the friendship is to be of the man's 
making. But he seemed to wait for his friendships to begin. 
It is true that he did not force his friendships, nor did he over- 
work them. He gave them ample margin to operate naturally 
and spontaneously. He speaks, somewhere, about youthful 
friendships meeting an untimely death by high pressure and 
over indulgence. But such cautious treatment of his friend- 
ships implies reverence rather than suspicion, or distrust. 

His friendships, however, suffered some tragedies, — not 
merely in painful separations, but, sometimes, in estrangements 
and treachery. For example, he writes me, at this time, about 
a man who, in his early ministry, was one of his dearest friends — ■ 
a layman whom he had helped, in many ways, to make a man 
of himself. After many years the old friend had broken the 
tie and drifted out of his reach, although he still was living in 
Richmond. The man's son had just gone to wreck in financial 
matters in the business world and in writing me about it he says : 

"It cut me to the quick. Ah, I think how his father did and 

I can hardly wonder that went crooked. His father 

was my bosom friend and he forsook me and that for reasons 
I could never make out. I love him yet, but I do not know the 
road back to his heart." 

He had another friend — a splendid christian woman of 
Richmond — but in a certain stressful period she, by her heated 



FRIENDSHIP 209 

words, greatly strained the friendly tie and he, in kindly words 
warned her to be careful, saying "Friendship is a delicate 
treasure and if you deal with it too roughly it may break." 
"Friendship" says Landor "is a vase which, when it is flawed 
by heat, or violence, or accident, may as well be broken at once; 
it can never be trusted afterwards." "False men never have 
friends" said Dr. Hatcher "but true men cannot live without 
them. Our Lord needed company in the solitude of the garden 
and in the raptures of the mountain vision." 

He received a Christmas token from his choice friend, Rev. 
H. H. Wyer. Whenever he would start on a journey into any 
part of northern Virginia he would begin to think of "Wyer" 
and begin to wonder if he could not put Warrenton on his 
schedule and thus get a sight of him. He pays him a tribute 
in the Herald: 

"When from his sick room at Warrenton Va. H. H. Wyer 
sent us a Christmas token of remembrance he little knew how 
it would touch our heart into freshness, life and love. Ah, 
these old friends — friends of the morning hours of life — friends 
tested by changing years and blinding sorrows — friends whose 
circles are ever narrowing and coming closer and closer to- 
gether — friends with the deepening snows on their beard — 
how we love them. Oh, how we love them! There is music 
in their names, pathos in their voices and an ever growing charm 
in their presence. Dear, sick, Wyer, we are with you in spirit, 
day by day and night by night. That is right, old fellow; pull 
up and hold on. Earth with you gone from it could never be so 
bright again." 

"His love for his friends" said Dr. C. H. Herndon "was, 
while changeless and steadfast as the stars, as ardent and 
intense as a school boy's." 

As this narrative of his life advances it will unfold his happy 
experiences with these men whom he loved above all others. 

"I have an invitation" he writes me "to go to California 
in August to hold a meeting, with all my expenses paid. It 
comes from Frank Dixon at Oakland. I am thinking of ac- 
cepting. Dr. C. E. Taylor promises to go with me. Must I go? 



i 



210 D. L. MOODY 

(It seems to me that I wrote you this before — or if not to you, 
to some other nice and confidential friend. )" 

The year 1885 opened with a bright event for him, — the 
arrival of the great preacher, D. L. Moody, for evangelistic 
meetings in Richmond. He hailed his coming with delight 
and threw himself into the campaign with enthusiasm. A 
touching incident occured at the opening service, which he 
loved to tell. The newspapers had reported, before Mr. 
Moody's arrival in Richmond, that he had in former years 
spoken very harsh words about the South. He heard of it and 
wrote to the committee, of which Dr. Hatcher was a member, 
suggesting that his visit to Richmond be abandoned, but the 
committee would not hear of it. 

He came, but at this first Sunday morning service, he felt a 
chill in the air. "He was evidently embarrassed" said Dr. 
Hatcher "and spoke with constraint and uneasiness. Just 
as the service was about to close he descended from his elevated 
stand and walked to the front of the choir platform and made 
a speech. 'Friends of Richmond' he said, 'you have been 
reading about me lately and I fear you have not a good feeling 
for me. I do not think I said the things against the South 
with which I am charged; but I am an awful fool and have 
said many foolish things in my day. If I ever did say anything 
against the South I am sorry for it and ask you to forgive me.' 

"Instantly a ripple of applause commenced and swelled 
into a thundering roar. Moody bowed his head, tears were 
in his eyes and he had the heart of Richmond." 

Moody was his joy and the meetings claimed him day 
and night. 

He tells of an experience he had with Mr. Moody in con- 
nection with the "Inquiry Room". Boarding at the same hotel 
with Mr. Moody was a man of an unsavory reputation and yet 
he "carried loads of sanctity about him and fastened on to the 
great evangelist with unscrupulous eagerness." One afternoon, 
in the inquirer's meeting, Mr. Moody suggested this individual 
as being well suited^to^take down the names of the inquirers 



D. L. MOODY 211 

who had come into the room for counsel and help. Dr. Hatcher 
knew in a flash that such selection would be a mistake. 

"I ventured to suggest to Mr. Moody" he said "that he 
would leave that to be settled later on and with his character- 
istic snap he said the thing ought to be done at once. I sug- 
gested that it ought to be put into the hands of a committee, 
but he declared, brusquely enough, that there was no use for 
all that machinery. I nominated another man and then he 
turned on me and asked what was the matter with me any 
way and broke into a laugh. When the meeting was over he 
said 'I want to thank you for what you did.' But I told him that 
I felt that I owed him an apology and was afraid that he would 
be offended. He put his mouth to my ear and said 'What is 
the matter with him?' I told him that it was not worth telling 
but that of all the men in Richmond he was the most unsuited 
to be secretary of the inquiry room. Then, with a charming 
candor, he said that with the great pressure which was upon 
him, he was exceedingly liable to make mistakes and said to 
me that he hoped I would watch him and help him so far as I 
could. 

"I know I have not told this matter in such a way 
that it can be appreciated. His honesty was so luminous, 
so candid, so modest, so thorough that it subdues me to tears. 
It showed me that he had no use for himself, no sensitiveness 
about himself, no feeling about himself except to do the thing 
that ought to be done in the way that would do the most 
good." 

Dr. Hatcher was requested to make a farewell address to Mr. 
Moody at the end of the meetings, assuring him of the love 
and gratitude of the Richmond people. During the last 
service he told Mr. Moody of the task that had been laid upon 
him. 

"Please don't do it" said Mr. Moody "I appreciate it all, but 
it makes me feel like a fool when folks get to hurrahing over me." 

"My speech" said Dr. Hatcher "did not come to pass." 

It was a varied procession of characters that tramped their 
way to his study door. He draws a picture of one of them: 



212 THE BOOK AGENT 

"We can stand a book agent provided he is of the masculine 
denomination. We are not afraid of him. He is a man and so 
are we in a small way and we have our rights 

"But when she comes — then is the winter of our discontent. 
We bow to the storm and have no remarks to submit. She 
is a woman and has the advantage of us. She has seen better 
days and has a tear in her eye. She belongs to an old family 
and swam in luxury in her youth. 

"She came the other day. How glib and rattling she was! 
She had us before we knew it. She had us sitting as erect as a 
sunbeam in July and meekly nodding assent to her sage obser- 
vations. We neither moved hand, nor foot, and, as for talking, 
we had no chance. She talked fast and she talked long and she 
talked all the time. After regaling us with the grandeur of her 
ancestry, the pleasures of her childhood and the surpassing 
excellences of her book she touched us up; she did it hand- 
somely; she expatiated on the potency of our influence, the 
value of our personal signature and the well known warmth 
and kindness of our heart. Greatness, she hinted, always had 
a tear on its cheek for, the struggling and unfortunate and there 
we were — a dumb and foolish victim to the spell. Time came 
and went, but she went on and on and on. We felt fatigued 
and lonesome and wondered how it would end. Finally she 
descended from her circumlocutory flight and lit in the region 
of business. The atmosphere became commercial and it was 
a question of dollars and cents. She had a book for sale and 
desired to sell us a copy. It ceased to be a question of ancestry 
and the poetry and praise all faded away. The spell was broken 
and all we had to do was to say whether or not we would buy 
the book. 

"We did it as well as we could — we spoke in a bright and 
respectful tone — we even thanked her for her visit — we paid 
a tribute to her brilliant conversational gifts — we wished her 
high fortune and a golden future and we expressed regret that 
it had to be so. How her whole aspect changed. She patted 
her foot with petulance, her face flushed, she breathed wildly 
and swept angrily away. 

"And yet, truly, we felt sorry for her. It hurt us to think of 
her hard lot and her desperate devices to stem the tide of 
adverse fortune. We would have bought her book except that 
we could not conscientiously pay an exorbitant price for a use- 
less article." 



MOTHER LINDA 213 

A ministerial student from the College was in his study one 
day and Dr. Hatcher was talking about a certain city pastor 
in the state. He seemed worried by the brother's peculiarities 
and he suddenly and impatiently exclaimed regarding the 
minister and yet with a suggestion of humor: 

"Psychologically, he's a monstrosity; theologically, he's a 
heretic and practically he's an anarchist." 

It was rare that a week passed without finding him traveling 
into some section of the state for a lecture, a dedication, a 
revival campaign, or a service of some kind. He went, the 
latter part of March, into the mountains of Augusta county 
to take part in a dedication and an ordination service at the 
Greenville church. He draws a vivid picture of his arrival 
at the Peyton home and of the greeting which he received from 
old Mr. Peyton: 

"There he was, stretched on his lounge — I mean brother 
Wm. H. Peyton — a victim of some grievous foot trouble; and, 
as I out-ran all the rest and rushed — unannounced upon him 
in his chamber he sprang up and took me to his arms. I could 
not help it — the tears would, in spite of me, roll out; but I 
played the hypocrite and hid them from him. Oh, the precious 
old brother! For just twenty five years I had carried him in my 
heart; but I never loved him before so much as I did that night. 
Four nights I rested beneath his roof. Sweet restful nights, 
without a care or pain — petted and pampered, chided and up- 
braided by Mother Linda. We talked of the past; we read the 
word of Christ together; we sang the hymns, the old and new, 
we knelt at the same altar where, in the far off ante bellum, we 
used to bow; we asked our father to spare us for other meetings 
on the earth and communed wonderingly about that other 
meeting out on the green hills far away beyond this scene of 
strife and death." 

As was his custom on such trips he carried a boy with him. 

"In my pilgrimage" says he "I had as my fellow traveler, 
Master John Garland Pollard, son of Dr. John Pollard, pastor 
of the Leigh Street Church. When we started he was frail and 
nervous and carried his box of quinine with him but the sight 



214 FORGETTING THE HOSTESS 

of the mountains, the racking rides over the hills, the rich milk 
and the pure crisp air, put the rose tints on his young cheek. 
When, on Wednesday morning, we bowed adieu to the Green- 
ville folks and the train whistled away with us, the eyes of the 
Richmond boy grew very moist and he said with a rueful face: 
'Oh, I am so sorry to have to leave' and that was the way I 
felt." 

The boy of that trip is the present Attorney General of the 
State. 

His rural journeys brought * him some ludicrous, as well 
as sentimental, episodes. For example, a few weeks after the 
Greenville visit, he went out into the country to preach and 
was delightfully entertained at supper in one of the homes 
of the community, — the ladies of the home making themselves 
particularly agreeable, vieing with each other in ministering 
to his comfort. After supper he hurried to the church, ahead 
of the others and began the service. Shortly afterwards the 
family arrived and found seats, but he observed them not. 

"After the service" wrote Dr. Hatcher "we undertook to 
play the agreeable and began to shake hands with the saints 
and to chat around to the best of our ability. Presently we 
found a strikingly good looking sister in front of us and holding 
out our hand we expressed a wish to form her acquintance. A 
vicious titter rattled through the crowd and the sister looked a 
little scornful. We asked what it all meant and found to our 
undoing that the lady in question was the one 'who gave us our 
supper'. We spent a good part of the night in trying to explain 
how it happened, but we cannot say that our transgression will 
ever be forgiven." 

The New York Sun, a few days later, copied the above 
narrative and Dr. Hatcher thus remarked: 

"The editor [of the New York Sun] seems to think it was 
very funny. Perhaps it was, but it did not seem so to us, nor 
the sister." 

His many rambles through the state, did not bring him uni- 
versal fame; — as is seen from an incident which occured at 
this time: 



STRAYING OFF 215 

"We have knocked around in the country adjacent to 
Richmond very extensively. There is not a road which we 
have not traveled again and again and not a church which we 
have not visited and not a neighborhood into which we have 
not gone. In our conceit, we had concluded that we were one 
of the well known brethren, — at least within a small compass. 

"Imagine how our plumes dropped to the dust the other 
evening when, upon being introduced to a quite pleasant 
looking old Baptist lady, she curiously eyed us from head to 
foot and innocently inquired if we were a 'station preacher in 
Richmond'; and there sat Thornhill, a gleeful winess of our 
downfall and what could we say. A blank sense of our obscurity 
struck us dumb." 

He maintained very pleasant relations with his Methodist 
brethren and often engaged in pleasant banter with them. 
He was in a group of persons on one occasion in which there 
were one or two persons by the name of Hatcher who were 
Methodists. 

One of the Methodist Hatchers called out to him: "Dr. 
Hatcher how did you and the other Hatchers who are Baptists 
happen to stray off?" 

"Stray off?" said Dr. Hatcher "You'd better ask how you 
strayed off. There were Hatchers in this county before 
John Wesley was born." 

At a meeting of the Board of Trustees of Richmond College, 
one of the gentlemen present arose and said: 

"Brother moderator, I move that when this Board awards 
the degree of "D. D." to a minister and that minister does 
not think enough of the College to come to the Commence- 
ment to receive the degree, that the action of the Board be 
declared null and void." 

"But brother Moderator," said Judge H 'Suppose 

this Board awards the "D. D." degree to a minister and that 
minister starts to the College Commencement to receive the 
degree and he takes the train in time to attend the commence- 
ment, but the train happens to be delayed and he hurries on, 
however, as rapidly as he can, jumps on the trolley after reaching 
the Richmond depot and the trolley jumps off and causes another 
delay and after several such delays the man reaches the College 
grounds, rushes into the building, but, alas, misses the Com- 



216 MR. CHARLES PRATT 

mencement exercises; where is that fellow?' Has he got the 
two "D's" or one "D" or what is he?" 

"I think" spoke up Dr. Hatcher "that he is two "D's" 
with a dash between." 

One of the bright features of his Sunday services was the 
presence of visitors from other sections of the country. One 
Sunday morning during the Spring he noticed in his congrega- 
tion an elderly, plain, but interesting looking gentleman. After 
the service had ended he greeted the visitor who gave his 
name as Mr. Pratt. Of course he fell a victim to Dr. Hatcher's 
hospitable clutches and had to go home with him to dinner. 
Well do I remember the sensation created among us children 
that day when in some way we learned that the old gentleman — 
who I first took to be a successful farmer from one of the Vir- 
ginia counties — was worth several millions of dollars. What a 
stretching of eyes in the direction of the multi-millionaire 
and a shower of winks at each other we endulged in around the 
table. We gazed at the visitor, as if the seven wonders of the 
world had suddenly been transported to 608 W. Grace Street 
and had taken up their abode in the quiet looking old man at 
our side. 

Even we youngsters, however, could see that he had wonder- 
ful eyes and when he talked along in his simple way he spoke 
as if he had tons of other things back in his head that he might 
say if he wanted to. 

But dinner is over and of course Dr. Hatcher must have his 
distinguished visitor see his Boys Meeting. He was none other 
than Mr. Charles Pratt, the founder of the Pratt Institute and 
the well-known Baptist philanthropist of Brooklyn and New 
York. Dr. Hatcher probably informed him that his visit to 
Richmond would be a failure if he did not see the Boys Meeting 
and so, in a few minutes, they put out for the church. 

The sight of such a large number of laughing, bright-eyed 
boys seemed to stir the old man. The singing, — it almost 
threatened to lift him off his feet and the other exercises inter- 
ested him immensely. The boys had to have a speech from 



LEAVING THE HERALD 217 

their visitor; they generally charged that as the price of ad- 
mission: — though they saw to it that he was not neglected 
when the collection was taken up. He consented to speak and 
what golden words of practical wisdom he gave us in a quiet, 
unpretentious talk. 

"Well boys" he began "I was called on to speak to you very 
unexpectedly and know not what to say to you. I asked your 
pastor to give me a subject and he playfully suggested that I 
tell you how to make money. But no, no; that is too mean a 
thing to talk about on Sunday. And yet money is a good 
thing and it is well to study the art of making and using money. 

"A gentleman asked me the other day how much I was worth. 
I replied that I was rich, — rich beyond the power of computa- 
tion. I told him that I had a happy home with a loving wife 
and eight children — six of them boys — and that these were 
my jewels." 

Then he talked along for perhaps ten of fifteen minutes 
and the boys gave him great attention. It was an interesting 
day and an acquaintance was begun that was very delightfully 
continued. 

Soon after his return to Richmond from the Southern Baptist 
Convention he severed his connection with the Religious 
Herald. This editorial task, was heavy and, with his pas- 
toral and other activities, was well nigh crushing. It was 
not the day of stenographers and typewriters — at least in any 
large sense — and the two or three columns each week were the 
labor of his own pen, — except when he dictated to his wife or 
children at home. 

"I have frequently remarked to our friends that you looked 
tired and worn and I was afraid that the burden laid upon you 
was greater than you could bear" writes a gentleman re- 
ferring to his many duties. He did at times look "tired 
and worn" but such was not his normal appearance. 

In his Tenth Anniversary sermon, in May, he speaks of his 
pastorate of the church as having been "the heaviest care of 
my life." 



218 "DR. HATCHER'S FOUR BOYS" 

"Many times" said he "I have staggered beneath the load 
and, in my moments of depression and embarrassment, I have 
felt as if I sighed for release. But the hand of God has held 
me. I have not staid for bread, nor honor nor necessity. Other 
and richer and easier fields have sought me and my life was 
bound up with this church. There have been times when I 
began to think I must go, but Providence has fixed it other- 



He might have added that at that time there were those in 
the church that were adding much to the heaviness of his load, 
but he thus continued: 

"I think I can truly say that my heart knows nothing but 
kindness and good will for all the members of this church. I 
love all and hate none. I would help all and hurt none." 

He took upon himself the financial support of four ministerial 
students-in addition to those whom he was already helping. 
These four young men — not Virginians — had come to the College 
expecting to receive aid from the Education Board. "We can- 
not help you with our funds if you are not from Virginia" said 
the Board to them. "We are not permitted to do so." It 
was a dark day for the young men, but Dr. Hatcher came to 
their rescue. "They seemed to be so bitterly disappointed" 
he said "and, withal, were so bright and promising, that we 
could not bear the thought of sending them away and then 
what? Well, this overtaxed scribe assumed the burden of these 
young men's support at the College, trusting that somewhere 
in the great outside world there would rise up generous friends 
to help me." 

This was in the Fall of 1884. Next Summer we find him 
still carrying the burden of these "four preachers boys."and 
seeking to secure aid for them for the next session. The Herald 
correspondent draws a picture of him as he was pleading for 
them at an Association. 

"The last thing we saw in the church was Dr. Hatcher taking 
a collection for "his boys" (supplemental to the one he had 
taken in the yard during recess) from two brethren not expecting 



OIL FOR THE RESTLESS WAVES 219 

to be present next day and the last we heard at the depot, as the 
cars were rolling up, was a call from Dr. Hatcher (sitting in the 
carriage that was conveying him to his home) for a collection 
from that crowd on the platform for "my boys". 

He had a gift for quieting storms that would arise in As- 
sociational meetings. Sometimes the discussions would become 
tangled, or even a little sharp, and he seemed always to have 
his oil can ready for the restless waves. 

It was not often that he attended an association that he 
did not take up a collection to aid some struggling interest. 
For example, during the Summer, he raised $1000 for the 
Mountain Plain church at the close of revival meetings, and 
at the Shenandoah Association, "Dr. Hatcher engineered a 
collection for Winchester and raised $295.50." 



CHAPTER XX 

EDITORIAL CORRESPONDENCE. CULPEPER MEETINGS. WEEKLY 

LETTERS. YOUNG MEN IN HIS HOME. LECTURE TRIPS. 

THE FRIEND OF COUNTRY CHURCHES 

1885-1886 

His editorial pen was growing restless and consequently, 
when at this time he received an invitation to be contributing 
editor of the Baltimore Baptist — the Baptist state paper of 
Maryland — he sent them his acceptance and, in a short while, 
he found himself addressing, each week, a wide circle of Vir- 
ginia readers. 

Among the congratulations that came to the paper for having 
secured Dr. Hatcher as correspondent was one from Rev. 
George Vanderlip, closing with the words 

"One blast upon his bugle horn 
Were worth a thousand men." 

Dr. Bailey, of the "Biblical Recorder," pronounced him 
"the most gifted and popular editor in the South." Every 
week the mail had to carry his editorial paragraphs for the 
Baltimore Baptist. He generally composed these writings 
at his home. The Baltimore train passed by our house and 
many were the evenings that I heard him call "Eldridge, take 
this letter for the Baltimore Baptist" and that meant that I 
must keep on the lookout for the northern train which would 
stop at the Elba up-town station at our back gate. We could 
easily hear the engine bell as the train crept up Belvidere 
Street, and I could wait until it reached Grace Street and then 

220 



THE BALTIMORE BAPTIST 221 

hurry through the rear gate and be in time to hand in the 
letter at the mail car. He was whipped to and fro by so many 
duties and suffered so many interruptions, that he sometimes 
found himself near the last day for sending his weekly matter 
for the paper with the matter still unwritten, and on such 
occasions he would hurry home and, with my mother, or some 
one, as his amanuensis, he would drive ahead for an hour or two 
"before the train comes" and frequently he would add the 
final words and seal the letter, with the engine bell over on 
Franklin Street announcing its approach, and with his words 
"there's the train; hurry now my lad." 

I rarely in these later days see the long northern train pulling 
its winding way across Grace Street towards Elba that I do 
not think of the father at his desk, by the window, hurrying 
his pen "along the Baptist lines" and the boy hastening through 
the back gate and banging on the door of the mail car in order 
that the important letter might be in the first mail, next morn- 
ing, in Baltimore. He wrote during these years frequently 
and, for awhile, regularly for the New York Examiner and many 
of the runs for the mail car were in the interest of the New York 
periodical. 

"Dr. W. E. Hatcher will begin revival meetings next Sunday 
at the First Baptist Church" was the announcement that 
traveled the streets of Culpeper about the middle of November. 

The day arrived and Dr. Hatcher was at his post and the 
campaign began. His preaching during the first week of the 
meetings seemed to produce no effect. The people listened 
respectfully and then went home. "The anxiety was oppres- 
sive" he said. He prayed and preached and worked but the 
campaign seemed destined to meet disaster. 

"At length" wrote he "the cloud broke. For several days 
the men stood in serried ranks and apparently immoveable. 
They packed the galleries almost to suffocation. There they 
sat, or stood, solemn, silent and unshaken. But Monday night 
their ranks began to waver and several of their leaders came 
over the line, From that time the work was easy. Night after 



222 THE CULPEPER MEETINGS 

night, men and boys poured down out of the gallery and pushed 
their way up to the pulpit to make their confession of Christ, 
Oh, it was glorious. It has been the most powerful and yet 
most quiet work of grace that I have ever witnessed. 

"The town is ringing with hallelujahs. It was a new sight for 
Culpeper for whiskey barrels to be rolling out of the bar rooms 
with their contents emptying into the gutters and yet that was 
one of the results of the wonderful meetings just closed." 

"Culpeper has never before felt nor witnessed such a deep and 
all pervasive religious awakening as this" wrote the pastor, Dr. 
C. F. James, in the Religious Herald "The news has spread 
throughout the region round about and the brethren are coming 
up to Culpeper as the tribes went up to Jerusalem. I cannot 
begin to describe the meeting. It is the most remarkable work 
of grace that I ever saw. Praise God from whom all blessings 
flow." 

Such experiences put Dr. Hatcher on the mountain top. He 
returned to his church with the echoes of the revival singing 
in his heart and his own people felt the thrill of the meetings as 
he told to them the story. 

In the early months of 1886 he and his wife wrote the Life 
of Dr. A. B. Brown, — his wife contributing much the larger 
portion of the work. She had been a pupil of Dr. Brown, who 
in his last years had been the brilliant professor of English 
in Richmond College and also one of Dr. Hatcher's most val- 
uable members in the Grace Street Church. He wrote the 
chapter in the "Brown" book on "The Country Pastor". 

He was elected president of the Baptist Congress which met, 
in the first part of March, at Danville, Va. 

One of his most highly prized friends was Dr. J. L. M. Curry, 
at that time United States Embassador to Spain, — who, 
he said, "had a head that would adorn any crown on earth." 

"United States Legation, 

"Madrid, Spain, 7 March, 1886. 
"Dear Bro. Hatcher: 

"The last Herald I received said that illness kept you from 
the Pastors Conference. I know what a privation that must 
have been to you and a greater one to them. I fear you have 



DR. J. L. M. CURRY 223 

been overtaxing your powers, or that the excessive labors 
of last and former years are beginning to tell on you. I warned 
you before I left and I send my protest again over the waters. 
You and Harris do too much and your lives are too valuable 
to be wasted 

"If old Grace Street Church would liberate you for six months 
with a full purse and send you along with Landrum, I might 
meet you in France and be your guide and companion for a few 
days. 

"I miss very much, too, those friendly confidential talks we 
used to have and would rather take with you and Charlie [C. 
H.] Ryland another jaunt to "brother Davy's" than to see 
Alhambra, or the Vatican. It may cheer you, if you are still 
sick, for me to say you have done me much, very much good 
in my life and I think of you with grateful affection, with deep 
earnest love. I picked up my pen just to say that and having 
said it I close. 

"Mrs. Curry begs to send loving remembrance to you and 
Mrs. Hatcher. I join, of course most heartily and include the 
children. "Affectionately 

"J. L. M. Curry." 

The visit of Rev. Dr. F. M. Ellis of Baltimore to his home 
and his church at this time was to him a happy event and 
opened the door to a friendship that bound them together 
for the rest of their days. On Saturday, during the visit, he 

took Dr. Ellis in company with Drs. L and P down 

the river on a fishing excursion. Dr. Hatcher on a fishing frolic 
presented an incongruity. He was a lover of certain games but 
the sporting element, so rampant in his brother Havery, seemed 
to have been entirely left out of him. Walton declares that 
good fisherman are like poets, born not made. In Dr. Hatcher's 
case neither nature nor art inclined him towards angling and 
it is a proof of his love of good fellowship that he became a 
member of the fishing party. "It was an off day with the fish" 

he said "and P was the only man who interfered with the 

domestic quiet of the minnows. | He claimed to be the hero 
of the occasion and that honor was voted to him with the 
understanding that the occasion was a failure." 



224 A RED FACED VISITOR 

It was a motley throng that crossed his daily path, — as is 
seen from the following two incidents: 

"When a broad breasted, muscular, red-faced man, with a 
soiled collar and a breath befouled with whiskey, comes into our 
study and tells us how much his mother loves us and how popular 
we are in his section of the country and how everybody is dying 
to see us and how much he always likes to hear us preach and 
how successful he had been in business and then closes his 
discourse with a pathetic request that we will lend him two 
dollars we grow a trifle crabbed and begin to think that, after 
all, there may be more in the Darwinian theory than a great 
many people think. At the same time we do not lend him the 
two dollars. That is fixed. We believe in helping the poor 
and consider lending money a christian virtue but the man who 
gets our two dollars must at least have the right kind of breath." 

"He stormed like a volcano and his wrath was at white heat. 
He fell upon us and told us with vigorous indignation how bad 
he thought we were. We enjoyed it. We always respect an 
honestly mad man. His wrath is a token of his sincerity. 
There was something so charming in his realness and candor 
that we almost forgot that we were the target at which the 
blows were directed. When he finished we simply explained to 
him how it all happened, the storm cloud broke and the genial 
sunlight was on his brow again. 

"If we must get angry let us do it hotly and courageously. 
Let us blaze like a furnace and go for the object of our anger 
at once. In this way we may finish up the business in a single 
day and the setting day sun will not see the war cloud on our 
brow." 

He wired his beloved friend, Dr. H. H. Wyer, that Richmond 
College had confered upon him the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 
Dr. Wyer's reply was as follows: 

"I received the telegram with your name signed to it con- 
gratulating me on the honor recently conferred on me by 
Richmond College. There was a storm coming up at the time 
the boy handed me on the street the telegram and if the light- 
ning had struck in ten feet of me I could not have been more 
surprised. 

"As I grow older I cling more closely to the friends of my 



WEEKLY LETTERS 225 

earlier life. God has indeed blessed me with some of the truest 
and best. At the head of the list stands my beloved W. E. H. 
It is more than twenty five years since we were first thrown 
intimately together and all that time I have had for you an 
earnest affection, which has never known let, cloud, or hind- 
rance. 

" Yours Sincerely 

"H. H. Wyer." 

"Last Thursday" he writes "the Taylors, George the First 
and George the second, gladdened our abode with their pres- 
ence and with them came a lot of their friends. It was a 
picnic of the best sort, to us at least. We have many earthly 
pleasures, — not one of which we deserve, — but we incline to 
the opinion that our joy never touches the flood except when 
we can gather a band of Baptist preachers around our dinner 
table. We have never yet found a class of men who could so 
fully command our love and confidence." 

In October I went to Chesterfield County to teach in an 
Academy, — an event which started a procession of weekly 
letters to me, from him and from my mother, that continued, 
with but little interruption, to the end of his life. These 
letters, carefully stored away, constituted for me an accumu- 
lating and sacred treasure pile. I cannot remember when the 
thought first came to me that I would write his biography, but, 
as his life loomed higher and higher before me, the thought 
grew into a consuming ambition. My heart would leap at the 
prospect of putting such a life before the world and I began 
keeping, not only all his letters, but nearly all the papers contain- 
ing the products of his pen. He knew near the end of his life 
that I expected to write his biography, but he nearly always 
tried to laugh out of court any suggestion that his life might be 
worth writing or that anything he did was worth recording 
and, even at that late date, I never dared to ask him to keep 
copies of his letters for such a purpose, — and he never did. 

He settled upon Sunday night as the time for writing to me. 
His first act upon reaching home from the night service would 
be to read the Sunday paper, which was always put in its place 



226 COLLEGE SCRAGS 

by his desk at the window in the front second story bed room, 
which was also the family sitting room. After reading the 
paper he would say "Well, I must write to Eldridge and away 
would go his pen, — his letters averaging about eight pages in 
length. They were written with his own hand and at the end 
of days of heavy strain and toil and would recite first the events 
of the Sabbath just closing. 

He evidently had a small ocean of duties surrounding him 
as he penned the following warning in the "Baltimore Baptist." 

" Whereas the vacation of this humble scribe is now at an end 
and whereas his pastoral duties will claim every hour of his time, 
therefore resolved that no man, woman, child, beast of the field, 
bird of the air, fish of the sea, nor any other living thing on, 
or under, the earth, no Baptist preacher, or any other person, 
place, or thing, shall ask at his hands any outside service from 
this time forth until the first of August 1887. The motion has 
been unanimously adopted and the meeting is adjourned." 

In his first letter to me which here follows he speaks of 
"College Scrags". On Sunday afternoons and evenings the 
back parlor would resound with the laughter and clatter of the 
young folks, among whom would frequently be College students 
who were calling upon his daughters and about whom he often 
joked the girls calling them "College Scrags". The names of 
his daughters in the order of their ages were, May, Orie, Kate, 
Lizzie and Edith. 

"Richmond, Va., Oct. 3rd, 1886. 
"My Dear Eldridoe: 

"Sunday night this is. We are just from church. Fine day 
we had — large crowds and I enjoyed preaching. May has 
been very sick and I expect she will have to go to the country 
again. She and Kate have run quite a living trade in College 
Scrags today. Kate seems to be quite a toast. 

"I am anxious to hear how your school opens. ... If 
your school is not full I may be able to send you one or two 
more. If you take a boy as your room mate be careful in your 
selection. 

"I hope you went to Sunday School today. Take hold and 
do your best for the church. " Yours, 

"W. E. H." 



HELPING YOUNG MEN 227 

His second letter follows quickly upon the heels of his first 
one and, Lo, it tells of another happpy burden which his 
shoulders have taken. It is a young man, hungry for College, 
burning to preach the gospel, but utterly lacking the means. 
"Come into my home" said Dr. Hatcher to him "I will find some 
way in which you can help me and in this way you can earn 
your board." The young man is now a useful pastor in one of 
the Southern states. Here is a letter from the grateful mother 
of the young man to Dr. Hatcher: 

"My Dear Friend : 

"I am bound to burden you again with the scratch of my pen. 
You have so recently done us another and still another act of 
kindness and I cannot let it appear unappreciated. . . Oh; 
that we could show in some way how deeply we do feel it. As 
it is I can only say 'The Lord bless you.' I wonder if those boys 
will ever make the men we would like for them to be. 

"Sometimes I feel like shouting; sometimes I feel like weep- 
ing." 

"Hundreds of young men in the ministry" writes Dr. W. W. 
Landrum "were assisted by William E. Hatcher in financial 
ways. Assemble them in front of Grace Street church, and they 
will outnumber the noble corps of cadets that drills on the 
campus of Fork Union Military Academy, which he loved so 
well." 

"Richmond, Va., Oct. 6th, 1886. 
"My Dear E: 

"Things may not go agreeably, always, but you keep cool and 
wait. 

"You must cultivate pleasant social relations with the 
people. Do some visiting and be attentive and friendly. 
Learn to love people. 

"C will board with us. Why this is I will fully 

explain later. I am helping him at College and can do it 
better this way. 

"Yours, Wm. E. Hatcher." 

This practice of taking some one in his home for the help that 
he could give him was a life long habit with him. His wife 
said "At one time it was the daughter of a country pastor whom 



228 HELPING BOYS 

he took into his home, that she might have an education, giving 
her her board and other help. There was seldom a period in 
his life, after he became a pastor, that he did not have in his 
home some boy, or girl, until they went out to College, or 
undertook work for themselves. He kept some boy in his 

house, in Manchester, all during his life there 

almost living there. This last named one he helped financially 
and socially until he became a cashier and at the last turned 
against him." It was indeed a melancholy fact that not all the 
boys whom he helped reached the top of the ladder. Some 
disappointed him, some proved unworthy of his help and some 
were ungrateful. But these facts seemed not to discurage 
nor check him in his beloved task of helpfulness. 

"It is another's fault, if he be ungrateful" says Seneca "but 
it is mine if I do not give." 

Rev. P. G. Elsom, now a well known and very useful evange- 
list, writes: 

"Dr. Hatcher took me in his delightful home 608 W. Grace St. 
Richmond, Va. when I was a student at Richmond College. 
God alone knows the influence of this christian home on my 
life and ministry. The love I have today for evangelistic work 
dates back to Dr. Hatcher's home, when I breathed that at- 
mosphere of his love for soul winning." 

No one can appreciate his ministry, during his Grace Street 
pastorate, without understanding that almost every week,or 
two, he was out in the state, "lecturing" chiefly at country 
and town churches. These lectures were generally accompanied 
by an admission fee at the door and by "refreshments" served 
by the good ladies of the church at the close of his performance. 
All over the state were the country churches struggling with 
their financial burdens and oftimes the lady workers, restless 
because their gifts were so inadequate, would say "Let us get 
Dr. Hatcher for a lecture" and they generally were successful 
in their plea. 

There were always people who would decry such schemes for 
money raising as the ladies pursued with their refreshments and 



COOKING STOVE APOSTASY 229 

oyster suppers after the lecture. The newspapers dubbed it 
the "Cooking Stove Apostasy" and he had his critics at his 
heels. He writes in the Baptist World: 

"No, we are no champion of festive methods of raising money 
for christian purposes. If the men will fill the Lord's chest 
with money, we will keep quiet about feasts, bazaars, carnivals, 
etc,. But it puts an angry heat in our total anatomy to hear the 
jaundiced and superpious utter their scourging sneers against 
those who undertake to make money for the Lord by selling 
oysters and cream. To us such twaddle, though veiled under 
the guise of unusual sanctity, is most preposterous and cruel,. 

"We have a friend who sells hay, mill-feed and flour. It is 
his business to sell and he prospers in it and he gives a tenth 
of his profits to religious purposes. He is praised for his marked 
liberality and is called a prince in Isreal,. 

"The man's wife keeps house. But she is president of a girl'^ 
missionary society and teaches girls to make regular offerings 
for spreading the gospel. It often comes to pass that the good 
woman feels sad that she gets so little money for various pur- 
poses and she longs for more. Once a year she bakes cake, 
makes jelly and cream and prepares some choice oysters, coffee, 
etc., and gets some of her christian sisters to help her. The 
girls get flowers, make candy and bring products of their fingers' 
skill and all these are exposed for sale. Friends come in and 
buy these things — and for what? Who gets the money? Not 
the women; not the girls. They do it all and give it all, — not 
one tenth, but all — to the kingdom of God and yet behold: 
There be some denounce the sacred trading of the woman as 
if it were a sacrilege. Away with the grumbling. She hath 
done what she could." 

Regarding his lecture trips he writes : 

"Sometimes I paid my own fare, gave all the income of the 
lecture to the suffering church and had a day of delicious fel- 
lowship with the little band of christian workers. 

"As a rule they would pay my expenses which were calculated 
with skillful accuracy so as to avoid giving me too little and 
now and then I would be surprised to find some actual com- 
pensation in the little wad of greenbacks which would be 
thrust into my hands as I was starting on my return." 



230 LECTURES 

"Be not disturbed, ye gentle and generous Christian women" 
he writes at another time "go right along with your valiant 
struggle to advance the Lord's kingdom. Do not hesitate to 
sell strawberries or aprons or fruit-cake. Sell at good market 
prices, sell good articles, sell to saint and sinner and even to 
fanatics if they are not too dyspeptic to digest such allowable 
delicacies. God be with you." 

The largest burden on his heart was the needy churches 
through the state. 

For example, here are two letters, — written, one on the 25th 
and the other on the 27th — which happened to be found among 
his papers. They are merely specimens of hundreds of similar 
appeals that flocked in his mail. The first is from a pastor 
in Campbell county: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher: 

"Could you not arrange to come up here and dedicate a nice 
new house of worship for us Baptists? It is finished, painted 
and ready for use. We will leave the time entirely with you 
but the sooner the better. I would like for you to come above 
all others for I do not believe there is a minister in the United 
States who could do the work for the Baptist Cause that you 
might do in three of four days. . . ." 

The second letter is from a pastor in lower Virginia: 

"My Dear Doctor: 

"We lay the first brick on our new church tomorrow. Our 
working capital is not $500. Yet we feel that we must begin. 
I write to ask of you a favor that you will agree to champion 
our cause at the General Association next Fall and also at the 
Portsmouth Association. A word or two in the Herald might 
help also. I know that I have no claim upon you for these aids 
except brotherly kindness; still I feel that I owe it to my breth- 
ren to ask you. If I could see you in person and have a talk 
with you about what our people did in two and a half years 
previous to the burning of the church I think our claim would 
in many respect take the precedence of others. . . Please 
give me your advice about coming to Richmond during the 
Summer." 

Imagine letters like these coming upon him every week. 
What a strain on his sympathies and what a pull on his heart 



HELPING THE COUNTRY CHURCH 231 

strings. Each pastor who wrote thought he had a supremely 
urgent need and each seemed to feel that if he could get Dr. 
Hatcher enlisted in his behalf that he had made a long stride 
towards victory. His soul often melted within him at the 
thought of these struggling pastors. He hungered to go to their 
aid; and he went — went often when many of his members 
thought he ought not to go — often when his friends and some 
times when his family thought he ought not to go — but he 
went — to the undying joy of many a struggling country church 
and pastor. 

"No man in the past half century" writes Dr. C. H. Herndon 
"has rendered such conspicuous, unselfish and useful service 
among the country churches in Virginia as Dr. Hatcher has 
done. . . He went all over the state, dedicating churches, 
holding meetings delivering addresses and lectures. The most 
obscure and feeble church could secure his services as readily 
as the strong and prominent pulpit. Indeed his joy seemed to 
be to give his strength to the weak churches." 

It would frequently happen that members of his church 
would call at our house to see him while he was out of the city 
and sometimes their countenances, if not their lips, would 
say "What; gone again?" 

One of his beloved deacons thought that he ought to reform 
his pastor in the matter of his goings but he soon found that 
his labors of love in that direction were in vain. Often when 
calling for Dr. Hatcher and learning from "sister Hatcher" 
that the Doctor was out at some country church preaching 
or lecturing he would shake his head as if he feared that his 
pastor was defying providence and bringing disaster upon him- 
self and his church. 

"My deacons" said he "used to sit up with my case wondering 
whether I was beyond redemption, now and then sending one 
of their number to labor with me. He generally ended his 
interview by apologizing for his intrusion stoutly maintaining 
that he believed that the indications of Providence were on my 
side. . . When I began my Richmond pastorate I told my 



232 "GOING AWAY TOO OFTEN" 

church at the time of my installation that the cry of the churches 
for my help rang for me like the voice of God and that they 
might as well understand that they would have trouble with me 
on that score, as long as they held on to me." 

He was talking one day to his Sunday School missionary 
Vivian McKennon, about the comfort it gave him to drop his 
burdens and run out to the home of one of his friends in the 
country near Richmond and there, under the trees, make his 
sermon for Sunday, and thus he continued: 

"I can do better thinking and working in that quiet place' 
Of course I do not tell everybody every time I go. I would 
not steal away. I would not be pastor of a church, if I had to 
sneak away from them; but I do not go all around every time 
publishing the fact of my departure." 

He made the last remark with a smile, and then added: 

"The other day I told David to hitch up my buggy. I 
jumped in and started for the depot to take a trip into the 
country. As I was driving rapidly down the street what should 
I see coming around the corner but the head of a horse that 
I well knew, and right in front of me hove in sight my beloved 
deacon F in his buggy. 

" 'You going away, Doctor?' he asked somewhat mournfully. 

"'tV I replied. 

" 'Will you be here Sunday?' he asked. 

" 'I expect to be. If I should not be here I will have someone 
in my place; but it is my definite purpose now to be on hand.' 

" 'Well, Doctor' said he 'this is becoming serious. You go 
away so often.' 

" <y ' sajd J a l m ost sternly 'I am going out there 

under the trees to study my sermon and get my self in better 
shape for Sunday. You go back home and attend to your 
family and be a good man. I warn you if you follow me around 
and seek to stop me on my trips I will bring you up before the 
church meeting and turn you out,' and then Dr. Hatcher 

added with a smile 'F looked as sober as if he had 

been to a funeral.' " 

Ofttimes objections would be heard from his members about 
his frequent trips out into the state for lectures and protracted 
meetings. But the "going" and the "helping" fever was in him 



THE FRIEND OF COUNTRY CHURCHES 233 

so strongly that he had to go and he felt sure that in the long 
run his church would not be the loser. 

"When I was a student at Richmond College" writes Dr. 
J. J. Wicker, "1 had two churches in Caroline County. One 
of these churches, Mt. Horeb, needed a new church building. 
The people were all poor and the congregation small, but we 
struggled along and got the building half finished and under 
cover so we could worship within its humble walls. We needed 
help. The Dover Association met that year at Cool Spring 
Church in Hanover County. We wrote Dr. Hatcher and asked 
him if he would come out and lecture, the lecture to take place 
the day after the Association. Of course he would come. He 
never turned down an opportunity to help the needy if it was 
possible for him to help. Wednesday night, during the As- 
sociation, Dr. Hatcher returned to Grace Street Church of 
which he was pastor to conduct his prayer meeting. Grace 
Street church had a hard and fast rule about taking collections 
for outside calls, but if there was ever a man who knew how to 
flank the enemy's movements in a church that man was Wil- 
liam E. Hatcher. He lectured at my church, Mt. Horeb. The 
whole country turned out to hear him. We had dinner on the 
ground and when we rounded up the cash Dr. Hatcher pulled 
out a handkerchief full of greenbacks and silver and said 'Add 
this to the pile. I got it from my folks for you on Wednesday 
night.' We counted it, $58.00 and when we started to pay 
him for his services he said 'No; it has been a great joy to be 
with you.' " 

Regarding his absences he said "My people came. . .to 
welcome me after my prolonged absences by telling me that 
I always brought them bottles of the old wine of the Kingdom 
when I came back from the gospel feasts of the other churches. 
. . . In some unexplained and blessed way my soul would 
get charged with, a message — heaven must have given it to 
me — which was the very bread of life to the thronging crowds 
which never failed to meet me. Their welcoming smile, their 
eager hand grasp and even their chidings made my pastorate 
a song whose enriching notes seemed full of the world unseen." 



CHAPTER XXI 

1886-1887 

CHURCH TROUBLES. COLLECTIONS IN HIS CHURCH. THE CELE- 
BRATED CL MURDER CASE. 

He added a Mexican to his list of beneficiaries. He was 
studying at the Louisville Seminary and desired to come to Rich- 
mond College to prepare himself for the ministry, with a view 
to doing missionary work in his own country. He wrote to 
Dr. Hatcher, who finally agreed to undertake to "see him 
through". On the Sunday after his arrival, he put him up for 
a speech in the Sunday school and he wrote me : 

'The Mexican made a speech and captured everybody. He 
is a bright fellow. 

"Your absence is a great loss to me and I miss you far more 
than I would like to say. But it is a kind providence which 
opened a place for you so near home so you can come often and 
in this way harden us for that separation which must come 
inevitably after awhile. . . I am greatly taxed this week. 
I lecture at College on Thursday and speak at Social Union 
that night. I am at work on Dr. Jeter's life. These, with my 
editorial work and my sermons and my visiting, crowd me to 
the highest point." 

At this time the "disturbing element" in the church was 
giving him much trouble. "Your Papa and I both had a sort 
of restless night" writes my mother on Oct., 29th, and then, 
after telling of some of the worries caused by certain members, 

she adds: "X is a thorn in the flesh of his pastor . . 

Your Papa writes every night on the Jeter book." 

234 



PARLIAMENTARY LAW 235 

"Richmond, Va., Nov. 5th, 1886. 
"My Dear E: 

"The invitation to preside at the Baptist Congress (in 
Baltimore) was an amazing surprise to me as I am such a poor 
stick for such a business, but honors are empty and I think not 
much of them." 

He regarded himself as hopelessly incapable of mastering 
the parliamantary art. 

"For my humble part" says he "I make bold to say that 
Parliamentary Law, while having its value, never suited me. 
In some way my mind shut up its windows and barricaded its 
doors when ever there was a parliamentary tangle. Its cease- 
less clatter about amendments, substitutes, previous questions, 
and other such contradicting bothers invariably vexed my 
mind and bred offensive confusion." 

On one occasion, in some religious gathering — probably a 
district Association — he was called to the chair to preside 
temporarily. A little confusion in the discussion arose; a 
disputatious brother began to make a point of order in some- 
what blustering fashion. Dr. Hatcher reported the incident 
somewhat as follows: "For the life of me and with my crude 
little stock of parliamentary knowledge, I did not know who was 
right, in the contention, but I drew up a resolution with myself 
that the belligerent delegate was in the wrong and I so an- 
nounced. I had no ground for my decision except the cut of 
the brother's eye and the crack of his voice, but I determined 
that I would hold grimly to my decision that he was out of order. 
I cannot tell how I managed to weather the storm but it 
seemed as one of the proofs of a special providence for the 
ignorant that I came to the end with my decision in perfect 
shape and my colors flying." 

My mother, in her next letter, refers to the "Philistines," 
which, being interpreted, means those particular members 
in the church who were opposing and worrying the pastor, and 
had been doing this, more or less continuously, for nearly 
ten years. During this long period he had been working under 



236 CHURCH TROUBLES 

the sting and lash of these factional influences. I well re- 
member how, as a boy, after hearing father and mother talk 
around the fire at night about these disturbers and after seeing 
the anxiety that it caused him, I would boil with fury against 
the recalcitrants. It weighed on my mind and on Sundays 
during the time that my father was preaching my mind would 
be employed chiefly in wondering how the sermon was strik- 
ing the beliggerents. 

My mother's letter to me of Nov. 10th, ran as follows: 

"You know I wrote you that the Philistines had been at 

work. C seems to be the tool of the party. They 

have tried their hand on Mr. A , with what success 

I know not. He talks freely to your Papa and seems friendly 
but I have my suspicions. . . . The situation is un- 
pleasant and gives us trouble. We do not talk — try to be quiet 
and trustful — whether there will be any outcome from it we 
cannot tell. 

"Last Sunday your Papa preached on the text, 'He shall give 
his angels charge over thee.' I never heard him preach better. 
He seemed to have power given him to speak the truths of the 
gospel. He said only those had the body guard of angels to 
attend them who walked in the way of the Lord, — none other 
need flatter themselves that they would have a celestial guard 
to prevent their dashing their feet against stones. He seemed 
to be almost inspired said he enjoyed preaching more than 
usual. Rev. John Bagby came last night and Dr. Owen will 
arrive tonight." 

In writing about the Baptist Congress, at the Eutaw Place 
Church in Baltimore, over which he presided, he said "My 
duties as president, were, like my honors, very light." In 
another place he touches up his Baltimore visit in playful 
fashion. He calls it "a festival of delight" and then adds: 

"It is true that when they perched us up behind the floral 
barricade at the Eutaw Place pulpit and we essayed the awk- 
ward role of speaker of the House we felt that Nature, or some- 
body else, had committed a blunder in putting us there, but 
when we could quit the meeting, slip across the square and 



CHURCH TROUBLES 237 

take refuge in the happy home of brother Eugene Levering 
and when the Baltimore Baptists swarmed around and gave 
us old time handshakes and when we went to Baptist head- 
quarters and saw Wharton, Barron, Weishampel and Wood- 
ward and when we went to the Social Union and saw the Bap- 
tist crowd and sat by the beloved Hiram Woods at the banquet 
table and were so lovingly greeted by the 'old Shepherd/ 
Ellis, Rowland, Dixon and the rest we felt that it was good to 
be there. This is a breath-taking sentence but it takes a big 
sentence to tell the glories that belong to the brother who takes 
a visit to Baltimore. We return thanks to all concerned and 
love them better than ever before." 

My mother writes on Nov.22nd: 

"In the midst of the wickedness of some of the members the 
Lord seems to be blessing him with the ear of the people. I 
sometimes wish that his friends would stop telling him what 

the party say. He says it will not hurt him for them 

to tell falsehoods on him — but it worries me, as it does him. 
When I tell him to follow up their stories and confront them 
he says 'No that would make a fuss. Whenever I take it out 
of the Lord's hands and attempt to manage it I know not what 
will come. Let it rest where it is.' I dont know but what that 
might be the Lord's plan however — to apply the knife and cut 
out the sore. 

"Some of the members are more enthusiastic over him than 
ever. He has the heart of all the best of the church. . . We 
are well and I feel that I ought not to let trifles worry; never- 
theless it is the little foxes that spoil the vine. We have more 
need to ask grace for little cares than for greater ones." 

"When a man does you a mean, malicious trick and that 
without provocation, what do you do?" 

To this question he replied: "Well we first get hot, and then 
we walk out in the back yard and let the wind blow on us 
until we get cool. What do you do brother?" 

But, while his pastorate had its irritating features, yet his 
church, as a whole, was the joy of his life. They rallied about 
him with affection and enthusiasm and, more and more, came 
to do his bidding. 



238 GENEROSITY OF GRACE STREET 

Churches in these days often smack their lips at their shrewd- 
ness in locking the gate against any out side public collections 
that are not authorized by the church. But not so, at that 
time, with Grace Street Church. Dr. Hatcher's collections 
in his church for needy causes were so bright and hearty that 
they became an attraction. Verily Grace Street Church became 
the tramping ground for all manner of worthy appeals from 
pastors and other men with special burdens. Was Grace Street 
impoverished by this? Were the members stampeded by such 
frequent cries for help and did the public take to the woods, 
at the sound of the beggars? Verily No. The church grew 
as the result of her greatheartedness. Alas, for the scary and 
narrow prudence of many churches. They may lock their 
doors but, in so doing, they shut out not only many needy 
cases, but also many of the richest experiences that a church 
can have. The struggling country churches of Virginia knew 
that their application for aid would receive a friendly response 
from Dr. Hatcher. In fact, from other states the cries for 
help would often come. For example, on Sunday Nov. 28th, 
he wrote me: 

"J. M. Pilcher preached for us this morning and then took 
his collection. Tonight I preached on Baptism to a house 
nearly full and then brother Stakeley of Charleston talked 
about the earthquake and pulled us on another collection." 

Many were the "pulls" that were made on old Grace Street 
and every pull brought some treasure. Many were the Sundays 
on which the congregation would see some plain looking 
preacher walk out on the pulpit with the pastor. During the 
service he would probably offer a prayer or read the Scriptures. 
The congregation would surmise that "something was coming.'' 
After the sermon Dr. Hatcher would address the congregation 
somewhat as follows: 

"Brethren, this is brother I wish you 

would tell me what I shall do with him. He has designs against 
you. He is pastor of a little church out here in the bushes, in 
Page county, and his people are worshipping in the public 



CHURCH COLLECTIONS 239 

school house, and his congregation is twice as large as the house 
and he wants a church building, but I told him that you were 
poverty enshrined and to go back home and not expect to have 
a church building like other churches; but he has'nt gone." 

"How many members have you brother?" he would say turn- 
ing to his trembling visitor: 

"Sixty Seven." 

"Tell them about it in four minutes and half." 

With desperate earnestness the brother would pour out his 
words in those four and a half minutes! 

"Well brother " he would say when the visitor 

closed "I take it back. You must not go home until you get 
that house. You take your stand down there by the table at the 
close of the service. Here are five dollars — but whether you 
will get any more — at any rate you stand down at the front 
and be ready to shake hands with any of my members who 
come around, and you keep one hand open, while you shake 
with the other. Let us stand now and sing heartily the Doxo- 
logy, Praise God from whom all blessings flow." 

The brother from Page would walk down to the front and 
his crowded pocket soon told the rest of the story. 

During the earlier years of his pastorate the door was barred 
against such collections. He said: 

"I was appalled to find also that no collection could be 
taken in the church except by vote of the church in its 
monthly business meeting. The cordiality with which I 
abhorred that trick of Satan, I deem to this day highly 
creditable to my character, though I was not conspicuously 
courageous in waging battle against it. But I can truly 
say that never Jesuit, nor juggler, ever schemed more tricks 
for avoiding that rule than I did. We suspended it, forgot it, 
postponed it, tried to amend it, made appeals for money, told 
them it was unlawful for them to hand it in, but that there was 
a table in front of the pulpit and that it would hold money if 
it were laid upon it, or that ushers had good hearts and large 
hands and could be trusted. I brought missionaries there 
unexpectedly and they told their story and made their appeals 
and I, with the neatest style of ministerial hypocrisy, told of the 



240 COUNTRY PEOPLE 

infallible and unavoidable rule and then juggled with the crowd 
and the missionaries went away regretting that there could be 
no collection, but with their pockets bulging with money. One 
night when it rained and the strict constructionists were nursing 
their rheumatism at home we punctured that rule and it went 
up in thin air, an offering I hope unto the Lord." 

"Friday night" he writes me "I went with Catlett up to his 
church in Caroline and lectured yesterday. I feel deeply for 
the country people. They have a hard struggle and are very 
poor. You will find out much more about country folks than 
you ever knew and will learn to love them. They are simple 
hearted and more real than town folks. I never weary of going 
into their homes. They are helped by sympathy and it will 
help you to sympathize with them. I am very happy in my 
pastoral labors. We have had today a swarm of College Scrags. 
Kate brought Fanny Jones with her from church and they had 
a high time with the fellows." 

On Dec. 3rd my mother in writing to church work says: 

"It is the best panacea for all the ills of life of which we seem 
to have had our share lately. I hope for better times though 
I sometimes feel that the skies will never be any brighter here." 

His next letter shows that he kept in touch with the matri 
monial prospects of his niece, Nettie. 

"Richmond, Va., Dec. 5th, 1886. 
"My Dear E: 

"It seems hardly fair to select Sunday night — my dullest 
moment for writing to you. But it is my time of leisure. 

"Nettie's W glory shone in upon her the last week 

and said his love sick poetry to her in the regular orthodox 
way. She is here tonight and near me as I write. She has not 
yet uttered the word of final doom, but she is in a yielding 
frame of mind. He is to come again and by that time I think 
she will be ready to crown him the king of her heart. 

"The interest in CI is very intense. Everybody 

seems sorry for him and there is much hope that his sentence 
may be commuted. But I see but faint chance for him. I 
have never believed that the Governor would interfere. I 
have not seen him for several weeks." 






LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 241 

The mention of the name "CI " opens up one of the 

darkest tragedies that Virginia had known since the Civil War, 
and, with this tragedy, Dr. Hatcher became painfully linked. 

The drowned body of a young woman, — soon to become a 
mother — was found floating in the city reservoir and on the 
face of the young woman were several bruises. Suspicion 

pointed to a promising young lawyer, Mr. T. J. CI of 

county as the murderer. The arrest of Mr. CI 

whipped the state into excitement. The day for the trial 
arrived and the bright lights of the Virginia bar were arrayed 
against each other and at the end the verdict was "Guilty". 
Instead of pouring oil on the popular agitation the verdict 
served rather to lash it into much greater turbulence and to 
divide the public into two camps, — opposite in opinion re- 
garding the prisioner. Discussion of the verdict ruled the 
hour at nearly every county store, street corner and family 
fireside throughout the state; in fact it penetrated widely 
into neighboring states. 

Dec. 10th was the date set for the execution and on Dec. 
7th, the Governor, on being importuned for a reprieve for 
the prisoner, said." 

"I would like to see the spiritual counselor of the prisoner." 

"Send for Dr. Hatcher" said the prisoner when informed of 
the Governor's request. 

Dr. Hatcher went — three days before the day for the exe- 
cution. The public were at once on tip toe of curiosity as to 
whether the prisoner would make a confession to Dr. Hatcher. 

"I saw the prisoner" wrote my father to me "very soon after 
he received the news that the Governor had gone against him. 
He was much depressed — far more than I ever saw him. He 
felt that his last hope was gone and when I prayed with him he 
wept. He said: T hope I am ready for death, but one does not 
like to face these things so suddenly.' 
"The Richmond Dispatch" said next morning: 

"As Dr. Hatcher came out of CI 's room he looked 

very, very sad. He declined to say anything to the newspaper 
reporters. 



242 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

"No" said he "I would rather not. I dont know that the 
prisoner would like it." 

"So saying, he politely bowed himself off." 

On that some day Dr. Hatcher presented to the Governor 
the request for a reprieve for the prisoner. The request was 
granted and he had the great satisfaction of announcing to the 
prisoner that his execution had been postponed until Jan. 14th. 
December Sth to Jan. 14th! More than a month of suspense for 
the prisoner, of excitement for the public, of frantic appeals 
for pardon and of racking strain and toil for Dr. Hatcher. 

My mother writes on Dec. 9th: 

"Your Pa has had a busy time this week — mainly at- 
tending to CI . 

"Everybody seems anxious to hear about the case and 
about your Pa's connection with it. They stop him and make 

all sorts of inquiries about it. When he went to see CI 

Tuesday he says he looked more embarrassed than he had 
seen him before." 

The Richmond Dispatch of Dec. 11th said: 

"A rumor was widespread in the city yesterday that CI 

had made a confession to Rev. Dr. William E. Hatcher, who 

was in the jail to see him". 

On all sides the idea seemed to spring up that CI had 

given some dark secret to Dr. Hatcher. It is difficult for the 
reader to realize the intense excitement that then prevailed 
throughout Virginia and even in other states. For example 
Dr. Hatcher received the following letter from Washington: 

"House of Representatives U. S. 

"Washington, D. C. 
"Dear Bro. : 

"Do all in your power to get CI ;— to confess — and 

make it public. Already public opinion is against you and 
when it once downs a man he is gone. The papers seem to infer 
that you trjr to keep his crime a secret. For the love of God 
check this as soon as possible." 



LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 243 

The reporters were voracious, and the public generally were 
clamorous for Dr. Hatcher to tell the happenings in the jail room. 
Their strained curiosity almost demanded it, and his self 
control and courage were now put to severest test. He deter- 
mined that the public clamor and criticism should not drive 
him into the public press with the secrets of the prison cell, 
and the public seemed equally determined to extract the secrets 
from him. His relation to the unfortunate man put upon him 
one of the most delicate and bewildering tasks that he had ever 
faced. He determined to be the judge of what he would tell 
the public and to choose his own time for giving information. 
And so he moved ahead, undisturbed by insistent appeals 
often smiling at the frenzied importunities of the reporters who 
peppered him with their questions at his house, his study and 
on the streets and yet whom he always kept in good humor by 
his playful obstinacy. It was one of his marked characteristics 
that he would not allow himself to be dragooned into hasty, 
impulsive action. He did not blame the public for being in- 
terested and curious, regarding his intercourse with CI . 

He knew that he was learning things that they had a right to 
know and that the world ought to know, and that were more 
interesting than they ever imagined. But he decided that 
when he did tell them it would not be by fitful little squibs 
given every day to reporters, to be served to the public in 
sensational phrases. His sacred experiences in that prison 
cell deserved more respectful treatment than that and he 
resolved that when he did speak it would be in words that the 
people would never forget. 

He wrote to me, at this time, as follows: 

"I see that you share the popular anxiety about CI — i . 

It is the one absorbing topic in Richmond and many persons 
say that they cannot think or dream of anything else. 

"My connection with the case has given me a troublesome 
and unpleasant notoriety. The reporters swarm around me and 
seek to extract every possible item from me. They get nothing 
and seemed sorely vexed by my stubborn taciturnity. 



244 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

"As for the matter of a confession — the one absorbing topic 
of curiosity — I think it is best to be silent. You would be 
amused to see how I am besieged, even by strangers and friends 
on the subject. From every quarter I hear that I am discussed 
with almost as much concern as if I were the principal actor. 
Only here and there I am blamed for my sympathy with him. 
This, of course, gives me no trouble. I feel the delicacy of 
my position and need wisdom. I am anxious to be faithful 
in my efforts to help the poor soul to prepare for its 
flight. 

"I have written thus fully because I thought you would long 
to hear. I have said nothing that you may not repeat to others, 
if you have occasion to do so. I will visit him two or three times 
this week and if anything should occur of interest and proper 
to repeat I will write again." 

One day in the prisoner's cell a tragic scene was enacted. 
Dr. Hatcher said to the prisoner in a kindly tone and yet with 
firmness : 

"I feel that I must say several things to you: 

"The last act in your sad career is drawing to a speedy end. 
Nothing can now be done for you, and I beg you to turn from 
any further hope of release, and prepare to enter that eternity 
which is at hand. 

"I do not know whether you are innocent, or guilty, but 
with you that is a simple question. If you are innocent it is 
a joyful fact for you — but even your innocence will not save 
you. Your hope must be built not upon your innocence of 
this charge, but on Christ the Son of God. 

"But the evidence against you is very strong. Three tri- 
bunals have practically pronounced you guilty. If you are 
guilty, your guilt is terrible and you dare not hope for mercy 
if you appear before God's Judgment Bar with your unconfessed 
guilt upon you. But you must consider that a mere confession 
will not save you. If guilty of this crime, you cannot be saved 
without confession and your confession must be voluntary 
and not forced out of you by fear of the gallows; but it is also 
true that, even with your confession, you cannot be saved 
except through your faith in Christ as your redeemer." 

"Now let me say" continued Dr. Hatcher "I will accept any 
statement you make to me as to your guilt, or innocence, as 
final, and I shall act upon it," 



LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 245 

"I am not guilty, Dr. Hatcher. I am innocent of the blood 
of Lillian M ," said CI . 

"If you make that statement to cover the whole case" re- 
plied Dr. Hatcher "then I accept it and will treat you ac- 
cordingly." 

CI also added: 

"I have never had much hope of deliverance since the ver- 
dict of the jury, but I have felt it my duty to fight against 
the shame and cruelty of the gallows, and besides the love of 
life is very natural." 

On Dec. 15th my mother wrote me: 

"People are crazy to hear whether CI will confess 

or not, and seem determined to try to drive your Pa into 
talking about it." 

In a letter to me of Dec. 19th, he said: 

"Tonight I preached on 'Confession' which put the crowds 

to speculating about CI . It seems that all I do is 

watched with a keen and eager curiosity. I discussed the 
elements of a good confession and the people could easily see 
what my notions of an acceptable confession were. 

"CI is terribly excited about the watch key. He 

says that Joel has stated a falsehood about it. I know not 
what to think about it. I told him not to set his hope on any 
earthly thing. I see no chance for him except in such extra- 
ordinary Providences as rarely come." 

The tide of sentiment in favor of the prisoner seemed to be 
rising. Mr. Edgar Allan, one of Richmond's most brilliant 
lawyers, became interested in the case, declaring "More people 
believe him innocent today than ever before." He intimated 
that witnesses had been suborned. 

Dr. Hatcher found himself between two forces. The courts 
pointed to the prisoner's guilt and execution, while the pris- 
oner himself, whose friend he was seeking to be, was pleading 
an opposite course. He had to pursue a path, marked by 
respect for justice and truth, on the one hand, and on the other 



246 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

hand by ^sympathy for the prisoner, who was leaning upon 
him. 

As the fateful day, Jan. 14th, drew near, everybody seemed 
to be expecting something startling to happen. 

On Jan. 9th., five days before the date set for the execution, 
he wrote me : 

"There is no hope that I can see for CI and I think 

that he has pretty well given up. He seemed more flushed 
and excited yesterday, than I ever saw him before. He excited 
my deepest pity. He could not talk so placidly as usual, and I 
felt a suspicion that he was less emphatic in asserting his 
innocence, than heretofore. He said: 'if the worst comes to the 
worst I am anxious to avoid everything sensational at my 
execution. I have made my statement in my book and I shall 
have nothing more to say.' But this may all be changed. He has 
now to turn his face away from the world and look squarely 
at death and eternity. When he ceases to deal with the en- 
grossing and tantalizing schemes for his escape from his doom 
and finds no lingering gleam of hope, he may not be able to hold 
up. If he is guilty, it will be hard for him to meet death with 
the damning secret in his soul. 

"And yet he is in a fearful dilema. He cannot confess with- 
out bringing the blackest suspicions about his family. If the 
watch-key was his, then brother and aunt are guilty of perjury, 
for they swore that it was not. They would be liable to arrest. 
Then, too, his book would go for nothing. 

"I have not even yet surrendered all hope of his innocence. 
But I am very doubtful. I have not sought to drive him to a 
confession. This I could not do, except on the assumption 
of his guilt, and that in the face of his professed innocence. 
Besides, I think a coerced confession is worthless. 

"The case is extremely perplexing to me. It has crushed 
me into a painful depression. At one moment, I fear that he is 
guilty and will die with a lie on his lips; the next, I think that 
he may be innocent and I fear that it will be a judicial murder, 
and sometimes I imagine that the terror of death will wring 
a confession from him when it will do him no good. 

"I seem to myself a very feeble and incompetent counselor, 
not to have advanced further with his case. But I have advised 
with other men and they say that my course has been right. 
I have sought to be faithful with him and cannot see that I can 



LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 247 

have much occasion for reproach when it is over. What I have 
written must prove unsatisfactory and bewildering to you. I 
send it because you will expect something and not because I 
am. anxious to write about it." 

"You must wait until next Sunday night, and then I will 
give you the end of the dreadful matter." 

The fight to save the prisoner's life was redoubled. An 
appeal was sent to the members of the Legislature. 

"The reporters have a notion" said the Dispatch "that Dr. 
Hatcher knows something which would be intensely interesting 
to the public if he would only let it out." In Lynchburg 
a poll was taken and 70 persons, out of 100, thought that 

CI ought not to be hung, but that his sentence ought 

to be commuted. It was announced that three jurors who 
condemned CI now favored his sentence being com- 
muted and would sign a petition to that effect. 

Only one day remained. One o'clock, on the next day, 
Friday was the time set for the hanging. On Thursday night, 
with the pressure becoming so heavy, Dr. Hatcher decided to 
make another effort with the Governor. He called upon him 
and laid before him an application for a further reprieve, but 
no answer was given that night. "Your father found the Gover- 
nor saturated with a belief in his guilt" said my mother. The 
hours of that night dragged with leaden feet for Dr. Hatcher 
as well as for the prisoner. Next morning, after breakfast, 
he set out for the prison to await the events of that direful 
day, for he had promised that if the prisoner was to be hung, 
he would go to the scaffold with him. As he walked to the 
Jail, he decided that he would suggest to the prisoner that he 
take with him to the scaffold the prayer: "Lord Jesus receive 
my spirit." He reached the jail and the little group in the 
prisoner's room showed suppressed excitement. The attorney 
was at the Capitol, busy with his final appeal to the Governor. 
The execution was to take place at 1 o'clock. Dr. Hatcher 

read one of the Psalms to the prisoner and CI stopped 

him and said: 



248 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

"Dr. Hatcher, I have had but one prayer on my lips today 
and that is, 'Lord Jesus receive my spirit.' " "That is the very 
prayer" said Dr. Hatcher "that I had decided to suggest that 
you take with you to the end." After the reading Dr. Hatcher 
led in prayer. 

In the meantime, the strain of suspense, as they waited 
to hear from the Governor, became almost intolerable. 

Dr. Hatcher had presented his plea to the Governor on the 
night before and Mr. Crump and others were pressing the appeal 
upon him in that last hour. At about twelve o'clock, Mr. Crump 
was seen approaching the door. Instant silence fell upon the 
little company and, as the attorney entered, he announced that 
the Governor had refused to interfere in any way with the 
execution. The prisoner's "knees trembled and almost smote 
each other. That was the terrible moment for him." Dr. 
Hatcher and the prisoner, in those next awful moments, were 
left alone. As soon as the last person had moved out and the 
door was closed, the two knelt in prayer. When they arose 
to their feet, Dr. Hatcher turned to the prisoner and said to 
him in as kindly a tone as he could: 

"All earthly hope is now passed and death is at hand. I sup- 
pose this will be the last moment you and I will be alone and 
if there is anything you desire to say to me it must be said at 
once." 

"No; Doctor, I have nothing to say. My statement must 
stand as I gave it." 

"I want to say to you, Dr. Hatcher" he continued "that the 
Bible has been a great comfort to me and I would certainly 
have broken down but for its promises. My trust for the 
future is in Jesus Christ and I have no fear beyond death." 

At 12:30 o'clock, while CI was dressing for the 

scaffold, Dr. Hatcher stepped outside and engaged in conver- 
sation with Mr. Crump. "The faces of both of them" said the 
Dispatch "betrayed excitement, which they struggled to 
repress and hide." After a few minutes, Mr. Crump left. 

Then commenced the march to the scaffold. The big heavy 



LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 249 

door swung open and the party slowly filed out of the room, — 

Sergeant Mason in the lead, Sergeant Smith and CI — ■ 

next, with Dr. Hatcher and Sergeant Allen, behind them. 
With measured tread they moved down the passage to the 
top of the stairs, where they were joined by four police officers. 
Down, down the two flights of steps they walked and, as they 
began their descent, the throngs outside the jail caught sight 
of the prisoner and the hills resounded with their wild shouts. 
The}'- reached the bottom of the scaffold and then began to 
ascend the sixteen scaffold steps. It must have been a weary 
climb for more than one of that party. They reached the 

platform and CI walked to the trap door and stood 

over it. Dr. Hatcher walked to the right corner of the plat- 
form to the front of CI who looked very solemn. 

Absolute stillness prevailed. Sergeant Smith drew forth a 
paper and read the death warrant. When he finished, he 
said to the prisoner: "Do you wish to say anything?'' 

The prisoner looked up at him and with a pleasant smile, 
but with quivering lips, said: 

"No; I do not want to say anything." 

"Not a word?" asked the sergeant. 

"No Sir." 

Sergeant Smith stepped back and signaled to Dr. Hatcher, 
who walked forward and said: 

"Let us pray." 

He had his hat in his hand, and kneeling down, he offered a 
prayer in a clear voice and earnest manner. Among other 
things he said (as reported in the paper next morning) : 

"We humbly beseech thee to come and look down upon thy 
servant now in this, which is to be the hour of his supreme 
affliction and trial, and we commend him to thy tender mercy 
in this hour when human law pronounces this sentence against 
him, when human friendship and human sympathies are un- 
availing. Oh, that the mercy of God may be abundantly be- 
stowed upon him; may his sins be freely forgiven; may he be 
able to hold a firm and sustaining grasp of the promises of 
that Savior that years ago he confessed. And we pray that 



250 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

the light of the true God may shine into his mind and that the 
promises of the Lord may be to him full and bright. Oh, God, 
our father, we commit his spirit into thy hands and pray that 
he may be able to say, 'I know whom I have believed and am 
persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed 
to him/ Oh, God, wilt thou show thy mercy upon all who are 
here and upon the broken hearted ones who are away, we ask 
for our dear Redeemer's sake Amen." 

Dr. Hatcher arose from his knees and stepped to CI , 

and said: 

"Have you anything you wish to say?" CI said 

something to him, after which Dr. Hatcher turned to the 
crowd and said: 

"I am requested by the prisoner to utter just one word and 
that is that at this moment of his death he carries no ill will 
to any man on earth." He then turned to the prisoner and said: 

"Is that all?" 

With a nod of his head he said, in a low voice: 

"Yes." 

Dr. Hatcher, with his hat in hand, then shook hands with 
the prisoner and said to him; "God bless you." 

"Good bye, Doctor," replied CI , "I am very much 

obliged to you. Please try to comfort those at home, and give 
them my love." 

Sergeant Smith beckoned to one of the policemen, who came 
forward and acted as an escort for Dr. Hatcher, as he wended 
his way through the crowd and out into the street. Just before 
he reached the gate, he turned around and looked towards the 

scaffold and his eye fell upon CI , with the rope around 

his neck. Out from the prison gate he went, with his hat in his 
hand. He never stopped until he reached the home of his 
friend, Dr. R. H. Pitt, seven blocks distant. "When he reached 
my house," said Dr. Pitt," he was as white as a sheet and he 
had come all the way through the streets, on that January 
day, without putting on his hat; he still carried it in his hand. 
He was greatly wrought up — more than I had ever seen him 



LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 251 

before. We made him lie down on a couch where, after a while, 
he became composed." 

He had gone to Dr. Pitt's house for a purpose. He knew that 
on the next morning the papers would blazon abroad the 
scenes attending the hanging and that in nearly every mind 

would be the query "What did CI say to Dr. Hatcher?" 

He had promised that after the execution he would unlock 
his lips and speak to the public. That time had now come and 
so, with his soul quivering with the horrors of the last scene, 
he wrote out the tragical story, — wrote it in the shape of an 
"interview", with Dr. Pitt acting as the reporter. 

Next morning, as the Richmond Dispatch sped into every 
section of Virginia and into many other states, it carried on 
its first page this "interview with Dr. Hatcher." It was four 
columns in length and was literally devoured by the reading 
public. I well remember the eagerness of the country people, 
where I was teaching, to get the papers with the interview. 
I also remember the high praise which the "Interview" evoked 
from all classes. Prominent men in the state pronounced it 
a work of high art, — and praised it for its diction, its skill, its 
tone and spirit. The Interview bore the head fine: 

"Dr. Hatcher speaks at last." 

The following are some of the questions and answers : 

"Reporter. Was the effect of your association with him to 
increase or diminish your suspicion of his guilt?" 

"Dr. Hatcher. I am not very impressible and men have to be 
quite magnetic to take possession of me. I traveled slowly in 

forming my judgement of CI , but I must say that 

while I never expressed any opinion one way or the other, I 

found myself gradually drif ring to the conviction that CI 

was not a murderer." 

"Reporter. 'Your study and management of the case must 
have given you much anxiety.' 

"Dr. Hatcher. 'As to the question of my personal feelings 
that possesses no interest for the public and on this I will not 
speak. . . . What to do and how to do it, so as to be of 
real christian service to the helpless object of my charge, were 
harassing and bewildering problems. At one moment, I faced 



252 LINKED WITH A TRAGEDY 

the possibility of his guilt and feared that he would brave 
death without a confession. At another, I wondered whether 
he might not defer his confession, until brought to the scaffold 
and then make it when it would be wrong in its motive and 
worthless in its effect. At another, and indeed very often, I 
suffered the agonies of a dreadful apprehension lest after all, 
being an innocent man, he might die the victim of the law's 
mistake.' 

"Reporter. 'Do you think that the prisoner was prepared 
for Heaven?' 

"Dr. Hatcher. 'That is a question too solemn and profound 
for me to touch. I believe in the immortality of the soul and in 
the reality and glory of the heavenly state. ... On this 
question I choose to be silent and leave the result to that God 
into whose presence the prisoner's spirit has gone.' 

"Reporter. 'Did he make any confession, or give any hint of it?' 

"Dr. Hatcher. 'Not one word, and nothing occurred that sug- 
gested to me that he was struggling to keep back any secret.' 

"Reporter. 'Will you be kind enough to reproduce the 
prayer you offered on the scaffold.' 

"Dr. Hatcher. 'I beg to be excused. It was a brief and 
unpremeditated prayer, such as the sad occasion suggested and 
I could not possibly reproduce it.' 

"Reporter. 'Thank you Doctor; but may I ask you if, after 
all, you do not think he was a guilty man?' 

"Dr. Hatcher. 'That I have never said and surely, at this 
time, it would be strange for me to commit myself to that view. 
I have no wish to add to the frenzied excitement, which now 
fills so many hearts. The poor young man is dead and beyond 
the reach of human sympathy. My opinion is of little worth 
but I knew him, as no other man did during his prison life, 
and, while I do not wish to discuss the matter, I must be candid 
enough to say that I am far from being convinced that he 
merited the shameful death to which he has come.' " 

The story of his experience with CI , from Dec. 

5th to Jan. 14th, has been given in unbroken form, uninter- 
rupted by any reference to his other activities. But during 
all that period his shoulders carried many burdens of the pas- 
torate and of outside matters. It was fortunate for him that 
he had other tasks to divert his mind from the horrible ordeal 
at the jail. 



CHAPTER XXII 

1887 



PAIGN. CORRECTING HIS CHILDREN S DICTION. SUNDAY 
SCHEDULE. "LIFE OF J. B. JETER." 

During all the weeks of his straining experience with CI — 



he was being hampered from another direction. The distur- 
bers in his church, who had been troubling him for several 
years, were still pursuing their former tactics, not only against 
the pastor, but also against some of the movements of the 
church. Their words and actions kept the church in more or 
less agitation and robbed the pastor of many hours of sleep. 
In one of his letters to his friend, Mr. Charles Pratt of Brooklyn, 
he dropped a hint of his church worries. In reply Mr. Pratt 
wrote : 

"New York, 26 Broadway, Jan. 27th, 1887. 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher : . . . You have made no mistake in 
opening your heart to me. . . It seems to me that I would 
just do my duty and never mind the thorns that meet you on 
the way — you will find that they are everywhere. We all 
have them, and I never expect this side of Heaven to be without 
them — so there is a pair of us. I often think of the first chapter 
of Joshua, I think it is where he is told to be of good courage. 

"Your Friend, 

"Charles Pratt/' 

"Finally the situation with these members grew unbearably 
acute" he said "and things were done that I would not dare 
to tell. They were too bad to tell and showed what good men 
would do when untracked and reckless. Events were so serious 

253 



254 CALL TO JUDSON COLLEGE 

and fierce that they brought me to a pause. I took my burden 
again to the throne and asked for instructions. For the first 
time I felt willing to go, if the Lord indicated clearly enough 
that it was his will for me to go, though, to save my life, I 
could not feel that it would be best for me to be eliminated 
under the dictation of that faction. 

On Jan. 30th he wrote me: 

"My work here is very heavy on me and often burdens me 
with anxiety and care. At times I sigh for liberty, but work 
is the law of life 

"I am tugging away on the Jeter book — a fearful work." 

While in this uncertain condition, he opened his mail one 
day and found a letter extending to him a call to the presidency 
of the Judson Female College of Marion Ala. He said "I had 
asked the Lord if he would have me go, to open the gate and 
now the gate was open with a most attractive offer in 
sight." 

After two weeks consideration, he decided to decline the call 
to Judson College. He would not run from trouble. "Never 
was the situation more complex or menacing" said he. Not 
a single member knew of his call, or his declination. It was on 
Wednesday morning that he decided to remain with his church. 
On that night he went to his prayer meeting, determined to 
ask his church to begin a revival campaign. He hoped that 
such meetings would melt the heart of his church and weld them 
into harmony and co-operation. He went with trembling, 
however, because the men who were giving him the most 
trouble had been saying during the winter that the time had 
not arrived for revival meetings, and he feared that they would 
oppose his suggestion about having the meetings. That nigh t 
the climax came. When the pastor presented the question as 
to whether the meetings should be attempted and if so, who 
should hold them, the leader of the opposition arose and 
said: 

"I believe we ought to hold the meeting and I am ready and 



A HAPPY PRAYER MEETING 255 

anxious to go into it. I want to be converted over again, 
for I do not feel ready to die as I am. And" said he "I want 
our pastor to hold these revival meetings and not Mr. Needham, 
or anybody else." 

No sooner had he said this than brother a close 

associate of the last speaker in the factional troubles said: 

"Brethren, I am in favor of our pastor holding the meeting. 
I want to go into it untrammeled. The time is come for our 
people to stop tale bearing and misjudging each other. A 
meeting we must have and I want the pastor and nobody else 
to hold it." 

Brother jumped up and said: 

"These are the best speeches I have heard for fifty years and 
I move we have a hand shake." 

"Not yet" spoke up Dr. Hatcher "put it off a little while; 
may be there are some who are not ready for it." He did not 
wish to force matters. But the meeting increased in power 
to the end, one brother saying "I have never known what 
religion was until tonight." 

"That night in the prayer meeting" said Dr. Hatcher "those, 
who for so many years had blocked my way and embittered 
my existence, one after another, quietly laid down their arms 
and declared their loyalty to me as their pastor and their 
readiness to work with me in the future. There it was — the 
end had come in a moment, unannounced and was greeted on 
my part with no noisy demonstration, no thought of victory 
in my soul, but boundless gratitude to God and with confidence 
renewed in simplest terms with those who had fought me. The 
war was over and I was there." 

It seemed to be the ending of a ten year's strain and every 
body was happy. Dr. Hatcher rejoiced in it, but he gave 
forth no tumultuous shout. He knew the frailty of human 
nature and postponed his celebration of victory. On a former 
occasion some of these hostile brethren had seemed suddenly 
to have abandoned their opposition and to have become very 
friendly to him. I, a boy, was jubilant about it at that former 



256 LETTER TO DR. J. L. M. CURRY 

time and when I then spoke to him about it as we were driving 
down town in the buggy, I expected to find him even more 
overjoyed than I was. But he put some new thoughts in me 
by replying: "Ah my lad human nature is a weak stick and 
we must not lean on it too heavily. I rejoice in their new 
friendliness but I never stake my destiny on men." 

He believed in their good intentions and hoped for the best. 

His mail brought him a letter from his friend, Dr. J. L. 
M. Curry, — at that time U. S. Embassador to Spain, praising 

him for his course in the CI case. "He spreads the 

glory very thickly upon me — indeed he overdoes it" he wrote 
me. His reply to Dr. Curry's letter was as follows: 

"Richmond, Va., Feb. 16th, 1887. 

"My Dear Brother, — Your letter refreshes me. It comes at 
a good moment — after I have cooled down from the excitement 
of my prison ordeal. The experience was essentially bitter to me 
in many respects and peculiarly so, in the coarse and unsavory 
sort of notoriety into which it brought me. That you thought 
well of my performance is pleasant to me. It is exceedingly 
agreeable to extract some drops of comfort from an affair which 
had so many painful features. 

"My own affairs — not financial are in a happy frame. . . 

"My church is in a blessed state. You know I have had a 
rough and discordant element to contend with. It has been an 
arrow in my heart and often I faced the question of pulling out, 
but a strong hand held me. I could not go. This winter I had 
the offer of another field. . . I declined. That day a cyclone 
struck my church — a holy, heavenly thing it must have been. 
It came suddenly and blew over the ramparts of my hostile 
and cranky brethren. They furled their banners and fell into 
line. So far as I can see they are in perfect accord with me. 
As I had no resentments to conquer, I met them far down the 
road and took them to my heart. It is the Lord's doings and 
marvelous in the sight of men. Last night we began a meeting 
and the signs are most propitious. . . I blush to send you 
such a preposterous letter, — so tedious, so egostistic and so 
laden with gossip. I can trust it with you but I fear that if it 
should fall into Mrs. Curry's hands she would despise me for- 
ever. Send me some points on Dr. Jeter and I will see if I 



A SEVEN WEEKS' MEETING 257 

cannot tone myself up for a better performance by the next 
time. . . l 'Yours as ever 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

Never before had the light shone so brightly on his pastorate 
as now. The momentous fact with him, at this time, however, 
was his revival campaign. 

"I never saw such beaming faces," he writes. "Everybody 
seems in ecstasy — so much so I fear they will not work for the 
salvation of sinners as they ought." 

The meeting ran for seven weeks, during which time the 
entire leadership of the campaign, including all the preaching 
was upon his shoulders. On Sunday night, at the end of the 
third week, he wrote: 

"It has been long indeed since I have had such a satisfactory 
Sunday. Our Sunday School had over six hundred in it. The 
congregation packed the floor and nearly filled the galleries." 

Two hundred men came forward to express their devotion 
to Christ and the church. 

"It was a sight not to be forgotten. In the afternoon I had 
nearly 100 in my Boys Meeting. This was followed by a Men's 
Meeting, which must have had 150 in it. Tonight we had a 
packed house." 

"I never saw the church work so well. . ." said he; and 
he also remarked that he thought that Grace Street, the First 
and the Leigh Street Churches ought to divide, and then he 
added: "We could multiply by dividing. This is spiritual 
mathematics." At the end of the fourth week, on Sunday 
night, he writes and, after telling of blessed experiences at 
the morning and afternoon services he says: 

"Tonight the crowd was simply overwhelming. It packed 
every part of the room 

"I find myself decidedly nervous tonight. Miss Effie is 
charmed with Grace Street. She thinks it a great church and 



258 A GROWING REVIVAL 

really, if its present excellent spirit continues, it will be the 
happiest church and the most useful in the city. . . There 
is the usual parade of Collegians in the parlor tonight." 

"The harmony is delightful" writes my mother. During 
these meetings the printer was ever bombarding him for copy 
for the Jeter book. At the end of the fifth week, my mother 
writes me: 

"Your father has been so wrought up that I am similarly 
affected with him through sympathy, and long for the time to 
come when he will be freed from his exacting work of preparing 
copy. . . . I am firmly convinced that he has too much on 
him and that he must not keep on any longer than is necessary, 
at this rate. He is more nervous than I have ever known him, 
and has not so much elasticity and spirit as formerly.'/ 

On Sunday night he wrote me : 

"I have had another busy Sunday on the earth. Things 
have rolled high at Grace Street. About 660 in the Sunday 
School, which is the highest for many days. The morning 
congregation was simply grand — many ladies had to go in the 
gallery. There must have been 150 young men and boys in 
the gallery. The lower floor had a solid pack. There were two 
conversions. 

"In the afternoon I had my boys meeting — attended the 
funeral of Miss Mary Ballou's sister and went to S. S. Associa- 
tion. When I reached home I had company— Mr. McRae 
and Mr. Wycliffe Abrahams. Tonight another overflowing 
crowd. I baptized seven." 

The tide of the meetings continued to rise. During the 
sixth week my mother wrote on the 15th : 

"Mr. X told your Papa last night that he never 

meant to give any more trouble in any church — six years 

of strife had cured him. He said he and Z— greatly 

appreciated your Papa's kindness to them, but he thought 
that some people might object to their being so prominent and 
that he must not call on them to pray so often. Your Papa 
hopes to finish his book in two weeks." 

"Today was great," he writes. "We had 672 in the Sunday 
School. I have not preached a sermon that seemed to move 
the people so much as that of this morning. It is so blessed 






CORRECTING CARELESS SPEECH 259 

to be upheld by the free sympathy of my people that I seem 
not to get weary. 

"Several denominational questions have been giving me some 
embarrassment of late. They press me heavily, when I feel 
that I am too much engrossed to consider them. I cannot 
mention them now." 

On the 13th, he wrote me: 

"I anticipate the completion of my book with something of 
the feeling with which a convict must contemplate his release 
from prison. I will have a jolly time resting when the burden 
rolls off,— if the Lord will." 

In one of his letters to me he gives a peep into the dining 
room with the family at the table. Some of the children were 
in the habit of exaggeration in their table talk and he set about 
breaking it up. He writes me: 

"The chief topic of conversation, at our table, is exaggeration, 
May and Lill are the exaggerators and Edith and I are the 
critics. I am constantly struck with the care and accuracy of 
Edith, in what she says. It is rare that she ever overstates 
anything. Her moral> perceptions are very clear and correct. 
She can see and state a thing with singular fidelity. Every- 
thing is real to her. She is as yet (and may she ever be) a 
stranger to all crooked devices." 

He finds yet another interloper in the dining-room vocabu- 
lary, — the word "certainly." "I certainly am thirsty," "I cer- 
tainly did have a good time last night," "That certainly is an 
interesting book" were some of the exclamations by which some 
of the children at the table overworked the much abused word. 

"We are having a lively time at the table" he writes "with 
the rule about the use of the word 'Certainly'. If any one uses 
the word ten times he, or she, loses butter for one supper. May 
has gone without butter five times. Tonight she, Coonie, Lill 
and Edith went minus butter at supper. Kate has been on the 
hooks only once. They enjoy it-that is, the fun. Lill and Edith 
insisted on 'joining' and of course they had to suffer the penalty 
which they think is quite an honor. The butter bill is much 
reduced — to the satisfaction of your mother." 



260 AN ARTICLE BOILED DOWN 

He waged war against the overloading of sentences. For 
example, he wrote me about the "exaggerators" and added the 
following : 

"I think you ought to try your hand on an article for the 
Baltimore Baptist. You might work it up carefully and by 
degrees. It is very important for you to practice the art of 
composition. Try to write — not much, but well." 

I accepted his suggestion shut my door out at my country 
school and seized my pen. The subject chosen was "Memory" 
and I wrote and rewrote and adorned and polished the article 
until it seemed to have reached the pinnacle of my literary art 
and I sent it to Richmond for the critical eyes of my father. 
In a few days the manuscript came back to me accompanied 
by the impressive announcement that the article was good 
but that it had an overstock of words and must be cut down. 
I caught my breath and began my word slaughter. Some 
highly prized adjectives were regretfully mustered out of 
service. I shook the sentences, boiled and pressed them down, 
and when I thought I had reached the limit of reduction, I 
sent him the result. To my surprise and chagrin, a few days 
later, on opening my mail, I found again my manuscript returned 
to me with a letter from my father stating that I had greatly 
improved it, but that it was not yet ready for publication and 
must be boiled down again. Once more I tugged at it, pulled 
the paragraphs to pieces, reshaped the sentences and struck 
to the earth every interloping word and sent the paper to 
him once more. I never saw the manuscript again, but in 
a week or so I had the new, strange pleasure of reading my 
article in the Baltimore Baptist. The opening sentence in the 
manuscript, which I first sent him read as follows. "It is one 
of the distinctive marks of the mind that, whatever it once as- 
quires, it ever afterwards retains." That sentence seemed to 
me to have a swing and dash that would startle even the elect. 
When 4 my father got through with me and I got through with 
that sentence it read "What the mind acquires, it holds." 



A SUNDAY SCHEDULE 261 

"Trim, polish and refine every paragraph" he writes at 
another time, "sharpen to the keenest edge, and let each word 
bear part in giving body to thought." 

At one time, as editor of the Herald, he uttered a warning 
to those who wrote articles for his paper, urging them to send 
only the cream, — and that condensed, — of their thoughts. 

"At this feast" he says "watered milk is a thing of loathing. 
To men of genius there are times of unwonted inspiration — 
when their powers are quickened into extraordinary vitality, 
when they catch new and ravishing visions of truth and when 
their thoughts leap into living words. Let them send us their 
dispatches from the mountain tops and they who read will 
look upward and grow better." 

His life for the next six or eight months was crowded with 
sermons, lectures, editorials, meetings and trips in many 
directions. He delivered a lecture to the negroes, — at which 
he said that he had a ripping crowd and that they almost 
laughed themselves pale. His Boys Society under his direction, 
gave an entertainment with their dialogues and "hundreds were 
turned away." 

"Richmond, Va., April 24th, 1887. 
"My Dear E: 
"Here's my day: 

1. Breakfast at 8:15. 

2. Study sermon till 10. 

3. In Sunday School till 11. 

4. Sermon till 12:15. 

5. Collection for State Missions till 12:45. 

6. Dinner and company till 2:30. 

7. Boys Meeting till 3:30. 

8. Funeral till 4:30. 

9. Rehearsal of boys till 5:30. 

10. Young Men's Missy Society till 6. 

11. Study of sermon till 6:30. 

12. Rest and supper till 7:30. 

13. Study of sermon till 8. 

14. Preaching till 9. 

15. Baptism and Inquirers till 9:30. 

16. Boy's rehearsal till 10:15. 



262 LIFE OF DR. J. B. JETER 

"The girls have had a harvest of scrags today. This must 
end here. "Yours, "W. E. H." 

At the Southern Baptist Convention, in Louisville in May,, 
he engineered a collection for the purchase of a large Thea- 
tre in Havana, Cuba, for missionary work. "And it was 
largely due to his exquisite tact and management" says the 
Herald "that it came out so well. It is hard to have any patience 
with a man who can do so many things so well as Dr. Hatcher 
can." T 

At last, his new book, "Life of Jeremiah B. Jeter", came from 
the press and met an enthusiastic reception. Spurgeon, the 
great London preacher, said to Dr. James Nelson "I have read 
every word of Dr. Hatcher's Life of Jeter, and there is not a 
dull line in it." He had been beset with tribulations in his 
efforts to write it, for it was during his harrowing experience 

in the CI- case and later, during his seven weeks 

meetings, that he had done most of the work. 

"For the man who has three sermons to produce" he writes 
"various religious services to conduct, pastoral calls to make, 
funerals and marriages to attend, company congenial, and some 
times very otherwise, to entertain, daily tides of letters to read 
and answer, with Board meetings, ecclesiastical councils, 
committees, ordinations and numberless outside engagements 
ever pressing upon him some allowance ought in common 
fairness to be made when he undertakes to write a book." 

He wrote the above concerning Dr. Jeter's literary labors, 
but the words also describe his own experience in writing the 
Jeter book. 

"What is more delightful than a life of lettered ease" says 
Cicero, but Dr. Hatcher's writings, which charmed many 
readers, were born in the stress and rush of a metropolitan 
pastorate. It was of course, not the ideal method of com- 
position. It is Bichter who says "Never write on a subject 
without first having read yourself full of it and never read on 
a subject without having thought yourself hungry upon it", 



LIFE OF DR. J. B. JETER 263 

but the author of "The Life of J. B. Jeter/' had to pick up his 
pen while on the run and use it amid the din of many duties." 
This was his first and in some respects his most interesting 
book. He was fortunate in his subject, for Dr. Jeter's career 
was a remarkable one. He and the Doctor were born in the 
same home and were descended from the same grandfather. 
On the opening page of the book, he says: 

"I harbor no grudge against noble birth and would not dis- 
parage the benefits which belong to those who spring from dis- 
tinguished families. At the same time, I am so intensely 
American in my sentiments and convictions that I heartily 
endorse the popular verdict that men are to be estimated not 
by the accidents of fortune, but by what they are and by what 
they do." 

After speaking of Doctor Jeter resolving to make it the rule 
of his life "to do his very best," he continues: 

"For nearly fourscore years he walked the earth inspired at 
every step by that lofty sentiment. When he adopted it, he 
was an ignorant and unnoticed youth; but when he came to the 
end, a crown of honor was upon his brow." 

He pictures the happiness of Dr. Jeter's old mother when he 
would, in the days of his greatness, visit her in her mountain 
home: 

"Ah, those were sunny days in the life of that mother! Who 
can describe the pride and joy with which she hailed his coming. 
What charming breaks did those yearly visits make in her 
monotonous life. With what swelling rapture did she gaze 
upon her son, now rounded into full manhood, decked in 
thickening honors and with the seal of God's blessing upon 
him." 

In comparing the Jeters and the Hatchers he writes: 

"I have already spoken of the mercurial and bouyant tem- 
perament of the Jeters. The Hatchers are not their equals 
in elasticity and ardor of nature — but they are more practical, 



264 LIFE OF DR. J. B. JETER 

sober and thoughtful. Dr. Jeter combined the best character- 
istics of both families." 

He thus refers to Dr. Jeter's birthplace which was also his 
own birthplace: 

"The house in which he was born would cut a sorry figure 
if brought in comparison with the stately and imposing edifices 
which are now quite numerous in Northern Bedford. At the 
time of its erection it was probably the most commodious 
private residence in the entire community. . . It never 
knew the refining touch of paint, and as a consequence pre- 
sented to the eye of the stranger a weather beaten and neglected 
appearance. But it was not without its attractive appearance. 

"Inasmuch as it happens that in describing the birthplace 
of Dr. Jeter I am, at the same time, describing my own child- 
hood home, I must be pardoned for the warmth and tender- 
ness^ of my words. 

"Oh, with what deep passion did I love that quiet old moun- 
tain home. To my boyish fancy it was the center of the world. 
It seemed always to have been what it was and for awhile I 
never dreamed that it could change. In all the heartbreaks 
and woes of subsequent life I have known no sorrow compared 
with that sickness of heart which came with my first absences 
from my father's house. Even now, under the glow of an 
affectionate memory, the faces and scenes of those early days 
take on a beauty so mellow and sad that I cannot recall them 
except with moistening eyelids. 

"Beneath the cherry tree, at the corner of the garden, slept 
the dust of my Presbyterian mother, who died on my fourth 
birthday and who, with her dying breath, prayed that her 
two sons might become ministers of the gospel. 

"There, in his lonely old age, dwelt my father who made his 
last born his companion by day and always locked him fondly 
to his breast through every live-long night. . . Royal 
evenings that household used to have around the winter fires, 
with ample stores of apples, chestnuts and cider, sometimes 
singing the old songs, sometimes reading aloud the paper or 
the book and always ready for the spicy jest or the crafty 
practical joke. Alas, the house is now in the hands of strangers". 

He describes the birth of Dr. Jeter. After telling of a "shed 
room" in the rear of the house, with "no fire place, no out- 



LIFE OF DR. J. B. JETER 265 

door and only one window that looked towards the West" he 
continues: 

"Such truant sunbeams as ventured to peer through that 
little window on the 18th of July, 1802, enjoyed the distinction 
of being the first to hail the advent of the then nameless little 
stranger, whose subsequent story is to be unfolded in these 
pages." 

"The reader must have found out already that I am no 
blind eulogist of Dr. Jeter. Of his errors and mistakes I have 
spoken with unsparing candor. . . It surprised me that 
I could not put my hand upon anything in his later life which 
could be branded as manifestly wrong." 

"It was said that he did not know men. . . There are 
two ways to find out men. The first is by suspicious vigi- 
lance. We assume that they are false and need to be watched. 
It is a mild form of the detective system. We eye our neighbor 
as a doubtful character and expect to catch him in villainy. 

"The other is by trustfulness. We start with the supposition 
that men are upright and mean well. We trust them and put 
them upon their honor. 

"When he turned his two blue eyes upon a stranger and 
subjected him to an examination he could find out about as 
much as a professional detective. If he convicted a man of 
rascality he refused to help him; if he stood the test he helped 
him freely; if the case was in doubt he gave the applicant the 
benefit of the doubt." 

"The only half-hearted thing about him was his misery. He 
could not produce a strong case of melancholy. His lamp of 
hope burned dimly at times, but never went out. If he began 
to grow gloomy, he soon came in sight of the ludicrous." 

Concerning Dr. Jeter's memory he says: 

"He refused to trust his memory in the days of iis strength, 
and it never forgave him for the wrong." 

"Dr. Jeter's love of life was wonderfully intense. . . He 
loved nature, loved men, loved conflict, loved honor, loved to 
think, loved to grow, loved to learn, and loved to work, The 
blasts of adversity sometimes struck him rudely and his burdens 
often got heavy, but sorrow never weakened in him the earthly 



266 LIFE OF DR. J. B. JETER 

tie. The sea of life was often rough and threw its blinding 
spray into his face, but the waves never went over him. 

"He was not tormented by any uncertainity as to his future. 
He did not cling to the ship from a dread of the sea. . . I 
heard him say publicly several times that if his religious hopes 
were not well founded he would probably die without finding 
it out. He was so clear on his assurance, so deep and strong 
in his joy and so entranced by his heavenly anticipations that 
he said, if deluded, he never expected to be undeceived." 

Concerning his end he writes: 

"He did not die out of time. Let no broken shaft mark the 
spot where sleeps his form. Let his monument be erect, tower- 
ing and complete and upon its apex hang that crown of glory 
which is the peculiar glory of the old. 

"Time scattered snow flakes on his locks; care furrowed his 
face and burdens bent his shoulders; but grace kept him bouyant 
joyful and busy to the end. . . The ink had scarcely dried 
in his pen when the angel came to call him." 



It is in such rich and luminous style that he tells the story 
of Dr. Jeter's life. He follows him through his career as pastor, 
author and editor closing with the chapter on "The happy 
end." 



CHAPTER XXIII 

1887-1888 

LOVE FOR BEDFORD. "LIFE OF J. B. JETER" CRITICIZED. DRIVING 
OVER THE BOY. GENUINENESS. ORIGINALITY. 

He had promised his friend, Dr. P. S. Henson, of Chicago, 
an article for the Baptist Teacher and he received from the 
Doctor the following letter: 

"My Dear Hatcher: 

"Wherefore comest thou not to time? I am on the tip-toe 
of expectation for that promised article. "Now, I want you 
all to be so still" said the visiting Sunday School orator, "that 
you could hear a pin drop"; and the gamins, huddled in the Mis- 
sion school, grew suddenly silent with a painful stillness. "Let 
her drop" said an impossible wretch. I have been waiting 
and keeping still. Now beloved, let her drop — only dont let it 
be an ordinary pin, but a javelin — a spear of Ithuriel, or some- 
thing both sharp and weighty. Let her drop, next week, if 
possible. 

"Coming for a moment to still graver matters — My heart 
is set on having you come to Chicago, if the thing can by any 
means be compassed." 

There came from his editorial pen at this time a bright 
article on the Monkey. It wore the title, "An Unworthy 
Ancestor", and began as follows: 

"Since Mr. Darwin and several other gentlemen have de- 
cided that we descended from the monkey, we have quite a 
different feeling for the monkey. It fills us with peculiar 
emotions to visit the Zoological Gardens. It is an outrage 
upon our finer affections to see our ancestors locked up in a 

267 



268 MULTITUDINOUS TASKS 

cage and kept on exhibition. It seems wrong for us to have 
to pay an admission fee for the privilege of indulging a fond 
glance at our forefathers. It is a great shock to our family 
pride when some crippled little Italian organ grinder comes 
hobbling along the streets and puts out one of our emaciated 
grandfathers, with a string around his neck, and compels him 
to dance for the amusement of his thankless posterity." 

The next paragraph draws a picture of the appeals that were 
pressing him and the startling fact is that it represents the 
conditions under which he lived, not merely for that season, 
but substantially for all seasons and during all the years of his 
Richmond ministry. 

"Letters, letters, letters. Mercy on us! What a flood! We 
write and we write and yet there is the pile steadily growing 
and frowning vengefully upon us. This wants a situation for 
a young man; this asks for a Sunday School speech; this is a 
request for some dialogues; this one has a church to build and 
is reaching for our pockets; this one desires a lecture and so 
does this, and this, and this, and five others; this anoints us 
with oil and solicits aid in preparing a commencement speech; 
this one praises us for something we never did and this lashes 
us for not doing something that we did; this one wants a rec- 
ommendation as a teacher and this is a boy with his first piece 
for public print; this is a call for a commencement address; 
this an invitation; this an ordination; this is a bill, this another 
bill; Ah, mysterious life. Little dreamed we, when we got 
our first letters years ago, that it would come to this. But 
it has come." 

The Herald thus refers to his speech at the College Com- 
mencement: 

"Dr. Wm. E. Hatcher delivered the Tanner and Gwin 
medals. There is no man in Virginia who can speak so grace- 
fully and appropriately on such an occasion as Dr. Hatcher." 

He wrote quite tenderly about the love which men have for 
localities — that mysterious yearning for certain spots of earth. 
In writing of his passionate love for Bedford, he tells of how 
resentful he felt at the changes which he found in his old 



LOVE FOR BEDFORD 269 

county — ruthless changes in the people, in the homes and in 
the woodlands, and of how he therefore determined to keep 
away from the country. 

"These changes hit me hard enough, at first" he writes. "I 
said again and again that change was an outrage and that 
violence had been done to the very sanctities of my childhood. 
Once, or twice, I kept away for years and thought that the 
struggle was over. Not so, Oh friends; not so; it could not be 
so. That mystery within me — that poignant, insatiable yearn- 
ing was still alive and it would grow on me until further resis- 
tance seemed madness. The hills, the trees, the highways and 
the homes had ignored me, or pitilessly deserted me, and that 
too after I had loved them with such rich and wondrous de- 
votion. 

"And yet I had to go back. Why I went — but that question 
is out of order. That is a problem for the philosopher to tackle — 
that is, if he feels any interest in it. Surely it comes not within 
the scope of my purpose, or power, to tell why my local passion 
is so strong; but I know it is strong; it is stronger than ever. 
My soul would flame with love for Bedford if Bedford were 
uninhabited and I were to pass through it alone at night." 

This summer he visits his old boyhood home in Bedford: 

"As for the dear, old .homestead, built by Rev. Jeremiah 
Hatcher a full century ago, the birthplace of Dr. Jeter, the old 
seat of hospitality and the spot endeared to us by many ties, 
we know not how to speak of it. There it stands yet, but it 
seems not the place it once was. We could have cried for 
sorrow that the garden, the orchard and old 'Acorn Tree' 
were gone forever. . . We roamed about the hills, lingered 
at the old rock-bound spring, sauntered through the woods, 
gazed at the quiet unchanging mountains and went again and 
again to the spot where sleeps the dust of our precious dead." 

But he could not protract his visit. Virginia pastors were 

after him. Dr. L wanted him to attend the Potomac 

Association because he was "anxious that the Association 
make a good impression on the community." Another urged 
him to attend the Goshen Association, saying "I want to 
arrange to give you a good home, where you will have plenty 



270 FEIENDLY CRITICISM 

of ice and a good time. . . If you prefer to have a home 
nearer the church, I will give you the best I can." Another 
wanted him at the Mt. Hermon Association, saying. "You 
could thus be at the ordination and could get back to your 
pulpit on Sunday." Great was the love of the country pastors 
for him for they well knew that his heart beat sympathetically 
for them. 

A gentleman criticized, in the public press, his "Life of Dr. 
Jeter," but he, instead of seizing his sword for defense, touched 
up the humorous side of the affair. It often happened that 
on occasions when others would become inflamed and when 
he would be expected to be excited he would dispel the panic 
by an out-burst of humor. In the present instance, instead 
of fighting for his book, he thus writes: 

"Prof. -, of Missiouri, deserves the thanks of 

a discriminating public. He has written a two columned 
article for the Central Baptist, in which he rakes the "Life 
of Dr. Jeter" with the fine comb of criticism. He points out the 
errors in the book, from the beginning to the end, particularly 
those in dates and punctuation. We have enjoyed the pro- 
fessor's criticisms exceedingly. They are candid and consis- 
tently adverse. He does not blend the sweet and bitter in 
tantalizing proportions. He does not feast the man who wrote 
the book first on caramels and then on mustard. His saccharine 
supplies were out and so he furnishes a square meal of mustard. 
That strikes us as a timely thing. The Life of Dr. Jeter has 
in our judgment been unduly praised and the author needs a 
visitation of adversity. This he has received at the hands of 

Prof. , as a sort of parting salute, as he set forth on his 

European voyage. We dare say that the man that wrote the 
Life of Jeter will enjoy this critical review more than any other 
surviving individual, — that is provided he survives." 

The Baptist Courier opened fire on Prof. for 

attacking Dr. Hatcher's book and called attention to the fact 

that Prof. 's critical article had in it certain mistakes 

of its own. Dr. Hatcher enjoyed the cross fire and in the Balti- 
more Baptist after saying that the Baptist Courier had found 
some slips in Prof. 's article, he writes that the 



RUNNING OVER THE BOY 271 

Courier "hangs him [Prof. ] out in a somewhat 

rediculous light before his readers," and then Dr. Hatcher adds: 

"Now we submit that Prof. ought to be excused. 

He probably wrote his article in a hurry and had no opportunity 
of reading his proofs. Besides, it seems to be fated that when 
a man undertakes the role of critic, he always exposes his 
flanks. When one man attempts to whack another, he neces- 
sarily uncovers his ribs to his adversaries. We stand by Prof. 

and recommend that the author of the Jeter book, whoever 

he may be, accept his castigation in good part." 

His Summer travels brought him a startling experience. He 
was in Leesburg, Va., when, one day, a friend with a pair 
of horses, of which he seemed immensely proud invited him 
to take a ride, and he found himself seated in an open carriage 
behind a "bright, airy team. The roads were filled with dust" 
he writes : 

"and the horses moved along at very moderate rate. Down 
the street ahead of us, at the gate of a friend of ours, stood a 
little boy on the carriage stone with his back to us and dressed 
from head to toe in pure white. Suddenly he leaped into the 
street and began to spin around in boyous glee. It was a 
simple impossibility to stop the horses and they trotted right 
along over him. Though frozen with terror I could see what 
happened in part. The fore foot of one of the horses struck 
him and knocked him forward, and another blow came from 
the knee of the other horse, rolling him over, and then the feet 
of the horses went over him and the front of the carriage hid 
whatever else occured until the carriage had passed him. My 
friend and I, with something of the feeling of murderers, sprang 
out and with infinite dread, turned back to see what was left. 
A bunch of clothes covered with red dirt, and a faint scream was 
what we saw and heard. My stalwart friend picked up what 
seemed to be the remains, friends ran out from the house, seized 
the child and rushed back. We were left at the gate and know- 
ing not what else to do we climbed back into the carriage and 
took, — behind two spanking horses and along a charming road, — ■ 
just the most miserable ride that any two innocent men ever 
had over any road. Tremblingly we drove back by the scene 
of the disaster and when we came in sight we saw a boy on the 



272 RUNNING OVER THE BOY 

carriage rock dressed in the whiteness of snow and as, in a slow 
walk, we came up to the gate, it was the identical boy. The 
ladies of the family came out full of good humor, aimiably 
bantering us and told us that upon examination the clothing 
of the boy was ripped into tatters, but, so far as they could 
find, there was not a scratch on the boy that drew a drop of 
blood, or left a sense of pain. My friend and I held a thanks- 
giving service all to ourselves and took another and a very en- 
joyable ride. ,; 

What became of the boy? Let us look forward several years 
and note two interesting sequels to the above incident. The 
boy at that time was about five years old. 

"Six or seven years, after that I was walking the streets of 
that fair town of the Shenandoah Valley, Luray, situated near 
the famous Luray Cave and as we sauntered along the street 
quite a handsome boy came dashing by us. I hailed him and 
drew him into a bantering conversation. A lady standing 
farther down the sidewalk broke into laughter. 

" 'You'd better be talking to that boy' she said with great 
emphasis. 'You tried to kill him once, but as the Lord kindly 
rescued him from the wheels of your Juggernaut, I think you 
ought to try to do him some good.' It was even so, — the 
identical lad that we drove over at Leesburg now twelve years 
of age. We had a pleasant chat together and I told the good 
mother of the boy, — as the lady turned out to be, that I would 
rejoice, indeed, if God would give me the joy and honor of 
bringing her son to Christ. We parted at that. 

"Two or three years afterwards, I was in the town of Berry- 
ville assisting Dr. Julian Broaddus in a revival service which 
turned out to be delightfully fruitful. 

"At one of the afternoon meetings there was unusual evidence 
of spiritual power. The christian people were all aflame with 
zeal for the unconverted, and, just before the meeting ended, 
I invited any to come who were ready to accept of Jesus Christ 
and enter into His service. Promptly a strong half grown 
fellow, full of emotion, came forward and declared his faith. 
I rejoiced over him though it did not occur to me to ask his 
name, and while I was talking with him the mother appeared 
at my side and said that my prayer had been answered. This 
was the identical boy that we had driven over at Leesburg and, 
through the tender mercy of God, I did have an opportunity 
of taking a little part at least in the salvation of her boy." 



CULPEPER REVISITED 273 

He draws a little picture of a happy visit this Summer to 
Culpeper, where he had — many months before — held a wonder- 
ful revival. No one knew of his coming : 

"It would be hard to tell" said he "with what happy expec- 
tations we went back to Culpeper. We tumbled somewhat 
unexpectedly out of an early train and stood an ungreeted 
stranger upon the platform of the depot. A sense of isolation 
seized us and we indulged in depressing reflections upon the 
transiency of revival fame. Not a hack-man, not a baggage 
boy, not a loafer to recognize us and our fluttering heart grew 
faint and desolate. Modestly taking a back street we picked 
our way to the home of Major Waite, where we knew there was 
an elegant chamber, named in our honor and ever kept waiting 
for our coming. What a welcome! Bless the Lord for good 
folks. That night the bell of the old church, which stands on 
the site of the old Culpeper Jail, rang out the summons to the 
people to come once more to hear the Heavenly message. In 
short, Dr. James, [the pastor] being of an imperious turn of 
mind, had issued an unauthorized notice that we would preach. 
What a blessed night was that. A great multitude packed the 
house. The familiar faces of loved ones greeted us from every 
pew and the dear, old choir sang the mellow precious, old hymns 
just as they did in the great revival. It was good to be there. 
The air seemed laden with heavenly spices and, in the music, 
we seemed to hear echoes from the other shore where the ran- 
somed dwell. We doubt not that Mr. Cleveland will have an 
imperial reception in St. Louis, but we venture to say that he 
will not extract from the occasion a tithe of the sweet delight 
which we found in that night of handshaking." 

In some way, the letters which he and my mother wrote me 
during my session of 1887-8 at Johns Hopkins University, 
in Baltimore, were lost and consequently I am prevented 
from recording his movements for this period with much 
detail. During October he made a little dash into Chesterfield 
County, which lay on the other side of the river from Richmond 
and, as he went hurrying through its fields and forests, he 
little dreamed of how familiar they were to become to him 
in the future years. The little Bethel Church, to which he 
was going, would have reasons in the future days to rise up 



274 THE WEAK BROTHER 

and call him blessed. His love for Chesterfield put that county 
next to Bedford in his heart. 

"We slipped the pastoral collar," he said "boarded an evening 
train and went out to dear, old Bethel, in Chesterfield County, 
Va., on last Friday night to preach for Dr. Winfree, who was 
holding a protracted meeting. It was the glorious days of 
Pentecost come back again. We can hardly remember such 
a genuine old break-down among the sinners. How delightful 
it is to go out to Bethel. Old Jacob had his Bethel, but we 
venture it was not located in Chesterfield and did not have in 
its membership the Bakers, the Watkinses, Martins and Jus- 
tises." 

Again he writes : 

"Last week we started a parvitudinous midget of a girl to 
school for the first time. She came back with an order to 
buy five books, a slate, a blank book, a copy book, a sponge, 
pencils and a book bag. In our helplessness, we bought them 
and, when they were piled upon the midget's shoulders, she 
looked like an Italian dwarf with his harp swung upon his 
back. And now we deferentially ask whether it is best for 
a child to study everything at one time." 

He preached on Oct. 30th, on "The Weak Brother," treating 
the subject as follows: 

"1. He is weak. 

2. He is a brother. 

3. Christ died for him. 

I. Wherein is he weak. 

(1) Weak in conscience. 

(2) Weak in ethical points. 

(3) Weak in doctrine. 
II. What are we to do with him? 

(1) Not to despise him. 

(2) Not to ignore him. 

(3) Make concessions for him. 

(4) Come down to him. 

(5) Lift him up. 
III. Motives for all this. 

(1) Opportunity for high christian charity. 

(2) Helping the weak brother is helping Christ." 



ADDRESS IN WASHINGTON 275 

He attended, in November, the General Association and, 
that he was not idle during its sessions is seen from the fol- 
lowing note in the Herald: 

"No man at the Association did better service than Dr. 
Hatcher. He was constantly helping some brother out of 
trouble. Without seeking to detract from other noble leaders, 
we will say that he was the leading spirit of the meeting." 

His congregation overflowed his building and enlargement 
was necessary. He himself yearned for a new building, but 
many of his members could not get their courage higher than 
a remodeling of the old structure. It was his policy in such cases 
not to force an issue. As his members were not ready for the 
larger project he gave them season for reflection. 

The Evangelical Alliance asked him to speak for the South 
at their meeting in Washington. It was a notable gathering 
of distinguished ministers and laymen of the different religious 
denominations from the North and South and it was a magni- 
ficent audience which he addressed. His Subject was "The 
Christian Resources of the South," and his opening words were: 

"The call for this Conference was startling. It rang like a 
fire bell in the night and there was something positively 
pathetic in the devout response with which it was met. This 
is a council of warriors around the camp fires to study the 
movements of the enemy, estimate our own strength and whet 
our swords for the conflict." 

It was on this occasion that he turned during his address and 
saw the time keeper on the point of touching the bell to an- 
nounce the expiration of his time and he startled the bell 
brother by quickly pointing his finger at him and saying 
"Touch that bell, if you dare, but only at the risk of your life." 

"The roar of laughter" said Dr. Hatcher "which instantly 
shook the house was something not to be forgotten. I had 
said one thing at least which the vast assemblage approved. 
Just then, too, the noise subsided, and I heard Mr. Dodge say: 

'Let the bell alone; let him go his way.' He didn't know 



276 COMMON SENSE 

that I heard him, but there was the music of heaven and the 
freedom of earth in what he said." 

He aided his friend, Dr. F. M. Ellis, in meetings at the 
Eutaw Place Church, Baltimore, January, 1888. I think 
I never saw him become the romping, hilarious boy to the 
extent that he did in his jollification with Dr. Ellis. They 
played bean bag one day in the sitting room. At one end of 
the room was a board, about a yard square, with a hole in the 
center, and from the other end of the room the players would 
seek to throw their bean bags through the hole, and the 
rollicking times that the two Dr's. had in these contests were 
interesting to behold. 

In the month of April he was appointed a delegate to the 
World's Missionary Conference to be held in London on June 
9th, but he could not attend. 

At the meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention in 
May, "Dr. Hatcher made one of his wittiest and most ad- 
mirable speeches and poured oil on the somewhat troubled 
waters." 

How often in religious gatherings, when the debate seemed 
to threaten a storm, or to get into a tangle, he would, in a few 
words, scatter the ominous clouds, or disentangle the discus- 
sion, and put everybody in a good humor. He had a gift for 
bringing matters down to a common sense basis. Dr. S. H. 
Greene of Washington once said to me: "That which always im- 
pressed me most about your father was his remarkable common 
sense." 

He had what Carlyle rings the changes on so frequently 
in his writings, — the love of realty. He saw things as they 
actually were and had little patience with the fripperies and 
insincerities of every-day life. 

This saved him, of course, from many absurdities and vain 
excitements. Sometimes, in public assemblies, the discussion 
would drift far into the air and he, who had all the time kept 
his eye on the main issue, would, by a word, puncture the bal- 
loon and bring the proceedings down to mother earth. This 






ORIGINALITY 277 

simplicity of soul and clearness of perception made him a wise 
leader in deliberative assemblies. 

"He taught me by example" says Dr. W. W. Landrum "the 
indispensableness of sanctified commonsense in dealing with 
problems or persons. . . He had a healthy mindedness 
that avoided the impracticable. . . Never was a student of 
human nature quicker to divide the false from the true, the 
apparent from the real, the sham from the genuine. . . No 
wonder, whenever a council of brethren was tangled in the 
brush of perplexity, they turned to him to point the way out 
of it." 

Akin to his genuineness, and growing out of it, was his origi- 
nality. Men called him unique and they spoke truly. From 
his youth he shied off from the beaten paths. In a speech 
before his literary society when a student in College he said: 
"Slander me; disgrace me, but for heavens sake call me not an 
imitator. If anything betrays a little, contracted soul — a 
narrow disposition unmanly and groveling — it is that disposition 
to speak like somebody else." This scorn for traveling another's 
track lifted him out of the ruts. The one adjective applied 
to him more frequently than any other was probably the 
adjective "inimitable," which meant that he stood apart. A 
writer in the Herald said that he waited for some competent 
pen to define, characterize and value Dr. Hatcher. "But that 
is no easy task" said he. "He was unique; he was a genius; in 
his personality he was without ancestry and he will be without 
posterity. Hence the difficulty to define and classify him 
psychologically. He was one of those not too numerous 
characters whose charm and power lie in the unexplored regions 
of original being, rather than in acquired accomplishments — 
in materials which the arts can cultivate, but never 
create." 

Whence came this originality? He was original not because 
he aimed to be unlike everybody else, but because he was so 
genuine and real. "The merit of originality" says Carlyle 
"is not novelty but sincerity." He was unlike everybody else 



278 ORIGINALITY 

because he was so absolutely himself. Men are so chained to 
custom that their lives are thrown into a common mould. 

"The slaves of custom and established mode, 
With pack-horse constancy we keep the road, 
Crooked or straight, through quags or thorny dells. 
True to the jingling of our leader's bells." 

He spoke about things, not according to accepted standards, 
but, as he himself saw them and consequently he was ever 
saying unique things. No two individuals are entirely alike 
and he who is truly himself is original. He would not use other 
people's anecdotes but culled them from his own experience. 
No wonder that a Missouri pastor, Rev. J. E. Cook, in whose 
home Dr. Hatcher spent two of three weeks, said of him after 
the visit, "This man is full of surprises." In writing for him, 
at his dictation, I was ever impressed with his determination 
to avoid the threshed-out phrases. In almost every paragraph, 
as he would dictate, there would be some colloquialism — like 
"the courage of his convictions", or "the apple of his eye." 
"the wee sma' hours," etc., that would, at once, suggest itself 
as the appropriate phrase for his purpose. It would have been 
easy to have laid hold of that which was ready at hand, but, 
invariably, he would weave a new, fresh garment for his idea. 
"He had his own striking way of putting things" says Dr. P. T. 
Hale. "I could tell when reading the article from his pen, that 
he was the author, without seeing his name signed to them." 
To his own self he sought to be true and in doing this he marked 
out a new trail. 

This reluctance to keeping step in a mere procession showed 
itself when asked by newspapers to furnish, along with many 
others, little squibs, or notices, for publication. Often he 
would, at the death of some prominent man, receive a request, 
often by wire from some paper that he would send them a short 
tribute to the deceased — say about ten or twenty lines in 
length to be published with several other such brief tributes, 
but it was very rare that he . yielded to such a request, — 



ORIGINALITY 279 

if indeed he ever yielded. He would usually wait and 
let the others speak their hurried paragraphs, and in a week, 
or two, he would send to the paper an article of one or two 
columns concerning the deceased brother and this he would 
seek to make a masterpiece, — something that the family would 
treasure through the coming years. 

On one occasion during a great denominational gathering at 
a church where he had once been pastor a service was arranged, 
in which all the former pastors of the church — and there were 
several of them in attendance at the time — were asked to be 
present and speak words of greeting, — one after the other. 
This rapid-fire processional schedule did not suit him and 
consequently he was invisible on the occasion referred to. Let 
it not be imagined that he had an exclusiveness that kept him 
apart from his brethren, or made him unwilling to mingle with 
them. On the contrary he was a lover of men. But when doing 
his tasks he preferred to choose his course and differentiate 
himself from all others, if possible. It was only by that plan 
that he was enabled to do his best. 

One of his daughters, Orie, was at this time a student at 
Vassar College, where she continued her course until she won 
her full diploma of graduation, — several years later she took 
a course at the University of Chicago, winning the degree of 
Ph. D. 

During the Summer of 1887 he was busy in varied trips and 
labors. He supplied on one Sunday in Brooklyn, N. Y. 

At the annual meeting of the church in May 1888, he urged 
his church to send out 100 of its members to form a new Church 
saying: "Let us not be afraid; let us multiply by dividing. 
God can give us another 100 members this year to take the 
place of these 100." One year later, at the annual meeting 
the clerk reported exactly 100 new members received during 
the past year. 



CHAPTER XXIV 

1888 

TRIP TO EUROPE. PRESIDENT OF THE GENERAL ASSOCIATION. 
BAPTIST CONGRESS. 

With his prosperous church he stood on a high pinnacle 
and the future loomed brightly before him. And yet his 
burdens, — so manifold and heavy — were breaking him down 
and he found that he "must either rest of die." He decided to 
seek recuperation in a European journey. "To cross the sea" 
said he "has been the dream and dread of my life." 

His first step was to secure a traveling companion. One 
afternoon he took me in his buggy and went speeding across 
the river to Manchester, where lived the Baptist pastor, Rev. 
L. R. Thornhill. He drove up to a store and the proprietor 
came out to the buggy. Dr. Hatcher said to him : 

"I want you and others in your church to send your pastor 
across the sea. I am going and I want him to go with me. He 
needs such a trip and deserves it and he will return to you in- 
vigorated in body and mind for his work. You take this mat- 
ter in hand, and work it up among the members; put a snug 
sum in his hands for the trip and do it in a bright and loving 
way." 

A light came into the merchant's eye. The suggestion of 
Doctor Hatcher attracted him and he accepted his commission. 
We called at other places and whatever may have been the 
details of these calls it is a fact that on July 11th he 
and Mr. Thornhill bade adieu to Richmond and set forth on 
their European jaunt. One desire that drove him across the 
ocean was his yearning to see and hear Spurgeon, the world's 

280 



A EUROPEAN TRIP 281 

great preacher. Regarding his trip on the waters he said, "I 
stood the storm, never missed a meal and came out with my 
colors flying." One of his lady members in Richmond had 
jokingly told him that she knew he would not be happy on his 
trip abroad because it would give him no opportunity of taking 
up a collection. Her prophecy failed, however, because, one 
day, on the vessel, Dr. Hatcher took up a public collection 
to aid the widow of a sailor who had a few hours before been 
blown by a hurricane from the ship into the sea. 

Among the first places which they visited on the other side 
was the home of William Shakespeare, where they saw the im- 
mense old fireplace which had, on each side, a stone seat jutting 
out into the corner. 

"As Thornhill and I imagined that the youthful William 
used to perch himself on these stones to eat his supper we 
ventured to court the inspiration of the Muses by momentarily 
sitting ourselves on the same stones. Thus far the inspiration 
has not taken effect, but I fancy I discover the premonitory 
symptoms in Thornhill." 

London and Spurgeon loomed before him and on the next 
Sunday he and Mr. Thornhill heard the great preacher at his 
Tabernacle. After the sermon they went into a room in the 
rear, in which Spurgeon was receiving visitors. 

"I have heard of you" he said, as Dr. Hatcher was presented 
to him. "I want you and your friends to spend next Saturday 
with me at my house." 

"At seven o'clock that night" he says "I went again to hear 
the lovely and Christ honoring Spurgeon." 

He heard him again on Monday night, when Spurgeon 
called him to the platform and said: "Dr. Hatcher, come up; I 
give you the freedom of the place to do just what you will." 
Dr. Hatcher spoke briefly. On Saturday he and his friends, 
McDonald and Thornhill, went to Mr. Spurgeon's home. 

"At one o'clock" he writes "we sounded the bell at the door 
of the mightiest preacher of the 19th century and felt the 
dignity and honor of the moment. 



282 A HALF-DAY AT MR. SPURGEON'S 

" 'Is Mr. Spurgeon at home?' we asked as the butler opened 
the door. 

" 'Yes — and waiting to see you' rang out cheerily through 
the large hall 'and I am pleased to note that you keep an 
engagement on time. Many persons who come to see me seem 
to think that I live in eternity and have no need of time but 
I have to use the clock and live by it' and then followed three 
hours and half of sacred revel." 

In their stroll through the garden they came to a Summer 
House and there Mr. Spurgeon precipitated a lively discussion. 

"Dr. Hatcher, you act as chairman" he said and then fol- 
lowed, "quite a fierce, though thoroughly good natured, wrangle, 
Mr. Spurgeon affecting all the ardor of a roaring partisan. It 
was a feast of romping debate and full of spice and jest." 

"At about four o'clock" said Dr. Hatcher "we were sum- 
moned to the dining room. . . The tide of talk rolled in 
and out and was playful, or serious, as it chanced." 

During the meal Mr. Spurgeon called out: 

"Dr. Hatcher, I want to show you my Orphanage and my 
College." 

"Be careful, brother" replied Dr. Hatcher "Your kindness 
is magnetic and you will have to be cold in your way and rough 
in your bearing towards me or I will surely come again." 

"Oh, he could not be that to you."spoke up Mrs. Spurgeon. 

In his fragmentary note book which he used during his trip 
abroad I find a reference to this little incident, after which he 
adds the words: 

"I have never yet trusted, or leaned on, any man so as to make 
him feel that he was of great consequence to me." 

After hours of royal chat and fellowship they took their 
leave at six o'clock Mr. Spurgeon walking a part of the way 
with them along the avenue beneath the trees. 

"We passed the porters lodge" says Dr. Hatcher "and found 
ourselves once more in the vast metropolis. It was a good 
way we walked without a word. The spell of the most unique 
personality of the nineteenth century was upon us and we went 



A EUROPEAN TRIP 283 

silent from excess of thought and feeling. McDonald broke 
the silence. 

" 'What do you think about it?' he said. The answer was 
'We have seen a man of God.' " 

The following items occur in his note-book: "Sunday 
August 12th; heard Spurgeon. Sat on the pulpit and made the 
prayer. I felt myself unfit to pray for him, — so exalted is he in 
my eyes. His text was Josh, 1: 10,11 — A rich and tender ser- 
mon, — on 'Passing the Jordan as a type of the Christian going 
to Heaven. ' 

"When I bade him good bye he said 'I hope you wont pass 
over Jordan in three days', — alluding to part of his text. His 
deacons are so sweetly and helpfully attentive to him. They 
have been very courteous and cordial to me.' " 

At Mr. Spurgeon's request he delivered an address before 
his students at the College. 

He had brought something from America that he did not 
take back with him and that was his tobacco chewing habit. 
This habit was a lineal descendant of his habit of smoking 
cigars which he had indulged for many years of his ministerial 
life. Smoking had been one of his social pleasures and he 
greatly enjoyed sitting in company with other ministerial 
friends and, amid encircling clouds of smoke, spending the 
time in easy chat, or discussion. In fact he reveled in it. 

He did not by any means go the length of Charles Lamb, 
who described his affection for the weed by declaring: 

"For thy sake, tobacco, I 
Will do anything but die." 

Nor was he as reckless in his devotion as Hood, who said: 

"Some sigh for this and that; 
My vision dont go so far 
The world may wag at will 
So I have my cigar." 

And yet "the cigar" brought him many, many hours of 
pleasure. 



284 THE TOBACCO HABIT 

"It was my Boys Meeting" he said "that caused me to 
abandon the habit of smoking. I discovered that some of 
my boys were developing the cigarette habit and I found that 
I could not, while smoking myself, remonstrate with them." 

That was in 1878 and for ten years he had not indulged in a 
smoke. He broke his rule one day, — by way of a little banter 
with Mr. Spurgeon. While he was on a trip with the famous 
preacher, in an English home, cigars were passed around, be- 
ginning with Mr. Spurgeon. The latter declined saying that as 
his American friend was too good to smoke he would abstain, 
whereupon Dr. Hatcher turned the tables by quietly accepting 
a cigar as it was passed to him and lighted it and began smoking 
it. "Mr. Gould" said Spurgeon, in a grimly humorous tone, 
as he observed Dr. Hatcher's act, "bring that box of cigars 
back; this is a better man than I took him to be and I believe 
I will join him in his smoke." This was his first and last 
indulgence in a cigar after 1878. However he had not aban- 
doned tobacco altogether, but had betaken himself to chewing 
it. The tobacco served as a stimulus to him when languid and 
soothed him after his severe nervous strains. 

But the chewing habit also was destined to an untimely 
end. While traveling through Great Britain one day and in- 
dulging in his favorite "quid" he found that there was no cus- 
pidore near at hand in the coach in which he was riding. He 
had therefore to make use of the floor and soon a little pool 
began to gather at his feet. The conductor came through the 
car and, as this railroad officer approached him, he found 
himself thrusting his foot forward between the disfigured floor 
and the conductor's eye, so as to prevent him seeing it, and this 
attempt at concealment made him jump. "What is this I am 
doing" he exclaimed to himself. "Has my chewing brought 
me to such a pass that I am doing a thing that I am ashamed of 
and that I am trying to conceal from the conductor. My days 
with tobacco are over". Right there he signed the death 
warrant — never to be revoked — of his tobacco habit. 

His intercourse with Mr. Spurgeon was marked by many 






MR. SPURGEON AND OPEN COMMUNION 285 

little pleasantries. They started one day on a trip on the cars 
and when they had seated themselves in the coach and the 
train had moved off, Mr. Spurgeon suddenly jumped to his 
feet exclaiming: "Oh, my; I have left my satchel; I have left 
my satchel; what shall I do." and his face presented a picture 
of woe, if not of despair. Dr. Hatcher sat looking out the 
window and unmoved by the noise and panic at his side. 
Waiting for the storm to subside he reached down under one 
of the seats in a very unconcerned kind of manner and drew 
out Mr. Spurgeon's satchel and handed it to him with the 
remark "I brought this along as I thought you might find it 
serviceable before you got back home." "Such little pranks" 
said Dr. Hatcher "seemed to relieve him and to break the 
many strains that were on him by giving him a mental diver- 
sion. He seemed to appreciate any one who would treat him 
as a real human being and not as a big curiosity to be stared at, 
or to be afraid of." 

"Mr. Spurgeon" said Dr. Hatcher to him one day "why is it 
that you invite people to your Communion table who have not 
been baptized?" By baptism, Dr. Hatcher, of course, meant 
immersion — just as all Baptists mean in their use of the word. 

"I take no unbaptized people into my church" Mr. Spurgeon 
replied. "I urge them to be baptized and there my authority 
ends. The Communion is a mere matter of church hospitality 
and seems to give me a better opportunity of urging the duty 
of immersion and when I get at people in this way I generally 
baptize them. If they come to our table once, or twice, and 
still refuse to join my church, then they are refused admit- 
tance to the table. You see I have throngs of Christian 
people visiting my church from all parts of the world and I 
do not shut the door against them; but" said he "if I lived in 
America and in the South where the Baptists practice strict 
communion, I should practice it also." 

"I fail to see" said Dr. Hatcher "just how you can reduce 
it to a simple question of geography." 

Mr. Spurgeon and a large portion of the English Baptists 






286 CLOSE COMMUNION 



were what is known as Open Communion Baptists, — that 
is they would invite to the Lord's Table the unbaptized, or 
unimmersed. It is also true of many of these churches, though 
n,ot true of Mr. Spurgeon's church, that they have the open 
membership ; that is they admit the unbaptized to their church 
membership, as well as to the Communion. Dr. Hatcher, with 
nearly all Southern Baptists, believed in what was termed 
"strict", or "close communion", — that is, he held that un- 
immersed christians ought not to be invited to the Lord's 
Table; they might come if they desired; he did not employ 
force to keep them away; the responsibility was with them, but 
his own opinion was that they had neglected one of the New 
Testament steps that came between belief in Christ and par- 
taking of the Lord's Supper and that was baptism. He be- 
lieved that in the apostolic churches only the baptized be- 
lievers partook of the Communion and he saw no reason, 
for letting down the bars. He believed that only immersion 
was scriptural baptism and therefore he was compelled to 
believe that he could not invite the unimmersed to partake 
of the Supper. It was because of this belief that he and his Bap- 
tist brethren were styled, "Close Communion Baptists." He 
wondered whether there were any of these "Strict Baptists" 
in England and so he said one day "Mr. Spurgeon; I would 
like to see some 'Strict Baptists' before I leave England. 
Have you any of that type here in London?" "Why, yes" he 
said "A multitude of them." "Do they have any churches of 
their own?" "Yes, I suppose they have at least 100 churches 
in this city. I am constrained to say, however, that many of 
them are not very progressive, but they are composed of really 
good people." 

"He took evident pleasure" said Dr. Hatcher "in giving me 
such instructions as would enable me to find some of the leading 
Close Communion Baptists of London. Some of these brethren 
I had the honor of meeting and found them to be among the 
noblest of God's people. They spoke in the highest terms of 

r. Spurgeon and said that in his heart he was was really 

th them." 



THE STRICT BAPTISTS 287 

The fact that there in England, where the "open communion" 
Baptists were so strong, his Baptist brethren "of the stricter 
sort" were keeping their colors flying gave Dr. Hatcher a warm 
brotherly feeling for the brethren and he yearned to hunt them 
out and give them the hand of fellowship, — and this he did 
and royal times he had with them. He visited their College 
of which Dr. Edward Parker was president. "Dr. Parker" 
he said "I want you to come over to America, — to the South 
where the "Strict Baptists" constitute a great multitude. 
Come next May to the meeting of the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention which will be held at Memphis, Tennessee, and let 
us show you what a welcome we can give a brother from across 
the sea." The invitation was accepted. On Sunday, August 
19th, he heard his beloved Spurgeon morning and night. Re- 
garding the night service he wrote in his note book, "Heard 
Spurgeon and helped him in the service." On August 20th, 
at 11:55 A. M., he and Mr. Thornhill left England for the 
continent. 

An amusing experience befell him one day. He decided 
to climb the Mer de Glace, but when he beheld the mode of 
his transportation, he stood appalled. 

"I was gravely informed" said he "that I could not see the 
mountains unless I rode the mule. I love the mountains, but I 
loathe mules. They are animals of very uncertain qualities and, 
while said to be highly useful, they have served me well only when 
I have left them alone. By a desperate struggle I conquered my 
prejudices and agreed to join the mountain caravan. It was 
decided to make an early start and at the appointed moment 
our mules and guide appeared in front of the hotel. Thornhill, 
with his slouch hat and long overcoat, mounted his appointed 
steed and rode off with as much composure as if he was going 
to a Saturday meeting in the country. My animal was com- 
mended to me as a beast of the safest qualities and sported the 
name of 'Coco'. After much trembling I got astride and by the 
help of our Swiss guide set Coco to going and away went the 
caravan. We descended the mountain by another road and 
our mules were brought around to take us down. I can ride 
a mule up a mountain, but I could trust no mule to take me 



288 LOVE OF PEOPLE 

down a mountain and so I walked down. I felt that night, as 
if I would weigh about four tons." 

Far up in the Appennines, hidden away amid its mountain 
ranges, was a long cherished friend, — Dr. George B. Taylor. 
He was the friend of his early ministry and at that time he was 
the Baptist missionary at Borne. He determined to find him. 
From one railroad to another he went and then in a conveyance, 
driving through a wild monutain country amid chattering 
foreigners in the dark, he pushed his way until finally, after a 
checkered ride, they reached the secluded house and a knock 
on the door brought, first the daughters and, after them, the 
the father, Dr. Taylor, who, as he caught sight under the light 
of the lamp of Dr. Hatcher, exclaimed in joyful surprise "Oh, 
brother William, I have waited for you so long and longed for 
you so much. I feel that you bring with you my kindred and 
my country." 

Nothing but his "passion for friendship" would have ever 
driven him to make such a journey. Of course they had blessed 
days together, but they were few and rapid in their flight and he 
and Mr. Thornhill were soon out and away on their jaunt 
through Europe. They went from city to city and a varied 
panorama of sights flitted before their gaze. But the most 
interesting sight in Europe to him was its peoples. "What I 
sighed for in Europe" he said "was not so much the art galleries 
and museums and mouldering ruins as its different peoples, — 
their manner of living, their home life and their church life." 
In London it was Spurgeon, that attracted his gaze and study. 
It was his Baptist brethren of "the stricter sort" that drew 
him on a fraternal hunt for them. It was Dr. Taylor, — hidden 
far away with mountains intervening, that he fought his way 
to see. It was Dr. James P. Boyce who, far from his American 
home, was lying ill somewhere in London and whom he searched 
for and found that he might seek to drop at least a faint gleam 
of sunlight into his sick room, in that vast strange city. Such 
sights and visits across the sea had for him an unrivalled charm, 
and the people that gained his interest were not necessarily the 



HOMEWARD BOUND 289 

men in high places, but they were rather the people to whom 
he felt knit in some way by christian ties. He wanted to see 
the trophies of divine grace, as manifested among his English, 
his Scotch, his Italian brethren, and the struggles and victories 
of their churches. He wrote from London to the wife of his 
beloved deacon, E. M. Foster, 

"I have been nine days in London and have seen many new 
and stirring sights. I have been in the palace of the Queen, in 
the House of Parliament, in the bloody old London Tower, 
in the Cathedrals and parks, but far more than in these have 
I found joy in hearing Spurgeon preach and standing where 
so many of our Baptist fathers were burned for their faith in 
the Gospel. 

"Somehow there is not much, either in persons, or places, 
to interest me unless they have something in them to make me 
think of Christ. One pleasure I have had — which I much wish 
you could have shared — that of meeting Mrs. Spurgeon. She 
is one of the queenliest and saintliest of women." 

But we need not follow him amid the details of his European 
sight-seeing. 

He came back to London from the Continent and had some 
further delightful experiences with Mr. Spurgeon, dining with 
him on his last Sunday in London at the home of one of Mr. 
Spurgeon's members. 

His jovial spirits suffered a collapse on the ship soon 
after embarking for America. Sea sickness struck him 
prostrate and he declared that he saw no possibility of 
living for ten days, — the time required for the voyage to 
New York. After the ship started on its homeward voyage 
and he fell sick he would count over the days, — one, two, three, 
four up to ten and each time reaffirm his conviction that he 
could not live for so long; but he decided that he might keep 
alive for five days and he settled upon that. At the end of the 
five days he found himself alive and so he determined to try 
to live through the second five days. This device saved the 
day for him and brought him safely over. 






290 HIS HAPPY RETURN 

He said that as he turned his face towards Richmond he 
realized, as he had not done before, the weakening effect upon 
him that had been caused by his suddenly giving up the to- 
bacco habit. He desired, of course, that he should now be at 
his best, intellectually, in the social circle and in his appearances 
before the public. His use of Tobacco had proven a mental 
stimulus to him and he feared that when he wished now to be 
bright and active he would be dull and sluggish. He told me 
that the matter gave him some little concern. But not for a 
moment did he think of opening the door to his habit; he stood 
his ground although he knew that a taste of the alluring weed 
would quicken his faculties; he wafted the habit a fresh and 
eternal farewell and waited with eager anticipation for the 
sight of the spires of Richmond. 

Already from far away Bedford had come his oldest sister, 
Rebecca, to welcome him home. I can see her now, aged and 
wrinkled, sitting erect in the front parlor at our house "waiting 
for William" to arrive. His church gave him a royal reception. 

"It was indeed a great and touching demonstration of af- 
fection and respect," wrote Dr. Nelson. 

With happy memories of his recent wanderings and with 
heart aglow at the thought of his church and his work, he 
took up once again his pastoral tasks. He was exhuberantly 
happy in his labors, and often his soul would be marked by a riot 
of joyful enthusiasm. I remember how he looked one day at a 
social gathering of the Richmond College alumni. I was living 
out of the city, but was present on that occasion and as I 
approached him in the throng he reminded me of a boy at a 
glorious frolic. His eye flashed delight, his face was radiant 
with happiness and his movements bespoke bouyancy and 
vigor. As I went up to speak to him the thought came to me : 
"Well, surely no one is happier here today than you." He ap- 
peared to have caught in full measure the spirit of the occasion. 
It was a gathering of the students and friends of his beloved 
Alma Mater who had gathered with bright memories of their 



HONORING THE OLD 291 

College and with high ambitions for her future. There was 

about him that day a spring and dash, and hilarious enjoyment 

that was contagious. "In him"said Dr. Herndon "life seemed 

so rich, so complete, so abundant". It was in some such spirit 

that he sprang to his work when he returned to Richmond. 

A few weeks after his return, the General Association met in 

Bristol and he was elected President of the body. One day, 

while presiding over the Association, he spied in the audience 

one of the fathers in Israel, N. C. Baldwin, — an aged brother 

whom he had met several years before, far out in the mountains 

of Southwest Virginia. When he saw him in the audience in 

Bristol — knowing, as he did, how heroically he had stood at 

his post in his mountain section, — he called the old man up 

to the platform, and, with a few fitting words, introduced him 

to the Association and suggested that the delegates give him 

the hand of loving recognition. With that, he struck up his 

favorite hymn, "We'll work till jesus comes" and, as they sang, 

the delegates thronged up to the platform and gave the old 

soldier their warm hand grasp. "The old veteran was much 

affected by this demonstration of affection" said the Herald. 

"It was a touching and melting scene." Dr. Hatcher loved to 

single out old ministers in that fashion and put honor upon 

them. 

Soon after his return to Richmond he found himself in 
the midst of another Baptist gathering — the Baptist Congress. 
It was an organization composed of representative Baptist 
ministers and laymen from all sections of the North and South. 
He rejoiced in this commingling of the brethren of the North 
and South. One day, near the end of the meetings, he was 
preparing to take the car with his wife for home, when he 
suddenly exclaimed, "Yonder is a delegate whom I have not 
had to a meal — the only one I think that I have not had — I must 
have him" and across the street he hurried and secured the 
brother with his hospitable lasso. 

He delivered at this Congress an address on Christian Science 
in which he described a prominent Baptist layman of Richmond 



292 



THE BAPTIST CONGRESS 



who had recently resorted to a Christian Science cure for his 
terrible stomach pains. Dr. Hatcher acted out the wri things 
of body and the groaning cries of the brother as he sought to 
remind himself that there was no such thing as a pain, or a 
stomach. "His speech" said the Herald "was overflowing 
with humorous allusions which repeatedly brought down the 
house." At the last service, he delivered the final message 
to the delegates. The Congress was held at his church. In 
a vein of pleasantry he said: 

"Now brethren we have entertained you, but please under- 
stand that it was on condition that you remain over Sunday 
and fill our pulpits for us. The fact is your presence here this 
week has played havoc with our sermon making and you must 
come to the rescue." His valedictory words were, according 
to the Herald, "a characteristic speech, full of contagious 
humor and, at "the conclusion, the congregation sang 'The 
Sweet By and By' and the parting hand was given." 

These last words suggest another picture. He loved to sing 
"The Sweet By and By" at such farewell occasions. He would 
suggest the giving of the hand of fellowship to one another 
and then he would strike up the hymn "The Sweet By and By" 
beginning with the words "There's a land that is fairer than 
day;" whereupon there would be a general commingling around 
the pulpit and in the aisles as the delegates with songs on their 
lips and often with tears in their eyes would grasp the hand of 
one another and think of that fair land where congregations 
would ne'er break up and parting scenes be no more. A hand- 
shake with him, on such occasions, had in it rich meaning. 



CHAPTER XXV 

1889 

CHURCH DEDICATIONS. TAKING COLLECTIONS. CONVENTION AT 

MEMPHIS. INFLUENCE IN SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION. 

THE CHESTERFIELD MEETING. 

The year 1889 found him full of happiness: 

"When I put my excellent health" he writes "my happy 
home, my lovely church and my many friends in a pile, I feel 
like having a thanksgiving day to celebrate the Lord's good- 
ness to me — even me." 

Concerning a young preacher for whom he lectured at his 
country church he writes: 

"I am afraid he is not dead in earnest. He talks of small 
congregations as a thing which he can never help nor stand. 
He lacks snap and push and I tried to nerve him up to bold 
endeavor." 

After writing of a good Baptist brother in Powhatan county 
losing his house by fire he says "I must help him so far as I 
can." I had taken the pastorate of three churches in Chester- 
field county and he wrote me regarding my visiting the poor. 
"That is the way to work — it is not showy but it will bring 
good fruit. I expect you to have great revivals next Summer." 
He was busy with many burdens but not too busy to pick some 
humor along the way. He had a visitor at this time which put 
him on his mettle and furnished him material for the following 
jotting in the Baltimore Baptist: 

293 



294 OUTWITTING THE BOOK AGENT 

"Triumphant for once. Yes, we actually beat a book man. 
He came to our house at first. We met him with a smile and 
said to him that we were incorrigible and wanted no book. 
He wanted us to understand that he would call again and seemed 
by a crafty twinkle in his eye to say that he would destroy us 
yet. We told him of our colossal cares and icily hinted that 
he would waste no time in trying to drive us into a bargain. 
He evidently did not believe us. 

"His next call was at our study in the church. He came in the 
fresh of the morning, just as the flocks of golden gospel thought 
were fluttering through our brain and seemed ready to be couped 
for Sunday use. His dress was worthy of a lord and he had 
heard our sermon on the Sunday before and was mightily 
impressed. This softened us a trifle and made us think that 
he was a man of discriminating taste, but his wanton flushing 
of our golden-winged thoughts was not to be forgiven for next 
Sunday's sermon lay before us a mangled, not to say an unborn 
wreck and we had a grievance which no flattery as to our last 
Sunday's sermon could subdue. We were very frank to tell 
him that we were not 'at home' to him that day. He seemed 
in doubt as to our earnestness and began to swing around to an 
argument in favor of his book. We assumed a lurid air and he 
vanished. 

"Calm as an Alpine sunset he sailed himself out saying that he 
would see us again. We hoped that he would have a lucid 
moment and change his mind but he did not. Book agents 
do not change their minds. They consider it their business to 
change other people's minds and he came again. By a happy 
chance we saw him as he passed the gate and came in. He 
did not see us. The outer door to our study was locked. He 
knocked, — reasonably at first, but by degrees he rattled the 
bolt, banged and jarred the door and looked as if he would rip 
up the foundations of things. We went back to a shady corner 
of our room and enjoyed the fury of the storm. Our ever- 
urbane sexton started down to open the door but we besought 
him to pity the sorrows of an impoverished middleaged man 
and go back to his sweeping. Long we sat mute and uneasy 
as to the final result but finally the roar and clatter ceased. 
We peered out of the window and saw that the coast was clear. 

"Hail, happy day! The monster was gone and we were 
monarch of what little we surveyed. But we did not feel 
entirely safe and so we managed to be at home in fact as soon 
as we could reach it." 



DEDICATIONS 295 

Dr. R. H. Hudnall says of him "He was known as the dedi- 
cator of churches in Virginia." From all manner of churches 
would come requests that he would dedicate their new building. 
He would generally find upon his arrival that a debt rested 
upon the new structure. He would also find the pastor and mem- 
bers looking expectantly to him to "lift the collection." It 
often happened, in the case of churches nearing completion, 
with a considerable debt still resting upon them, that some of 
them would suggest "If we can get Dr. Hatcher he will raise 
all we need". He appeared in one of his most striking roles 
when he was taking a collection on dedication day, with a 
congregation packing every nook and corner of the new build- 
ing, peering through the windows and blocking the doors, and 
everybody in happy mood. 

Let us picture a dedication scene. The day has arrived and 
the entire community seems to be crowding itself into the 
new building. Dr. Hatcher preaches the dedication sermon, 
at the close of which comes that event — so prodigiously impor- 
tant for the struggling church, — the collection. Already before 
the service, Dr. Hatcher has met some of the best givers in 
conference and they have promised to start the subscription 
at the proper moment. When the time for the collection comes, 
ushers are placed in the aisle, a financial statement is made and 
the amount named that is to be raised. Immediately one of 

the brethren gets up and says "Dr. Hatcher, I will give $ 

towards paying off this debt" and, on his heels, comes another 
of those whom Dr. Hatcher has already enlisted, and thus 
the subscriptions are called out, either by the persons them- 
selves, or by the ushers, and each subscription evokes some 
playful comment from Dr. Hatcher. 

In speaking of one of his collections at a dedication he writes : 

"That collection was after the order of Melchisedek, in 
the respect that it has no precedecessors in my experience. 
It was of the nature of a conflagration, — hard to keep under 
control. It was a fight to restrain the givers from making 



296 TAKING UP COLLECTIONS 

such a conflict of noises as would make it impossible to get 
their names." 

He dedicated a church in a Virginia town, and called the 
deacons together before the service saying to them "Brethren, 
you must start the collection today by your subscriptions 
and if you set the tune too low we will not be able to sing it 
through." When he walked upon the platform at a corner- 
stone laying he got the great audience in a good humor at the 
outset by looking over the crowd and saying, " where did all 
you people come from?" His cordial, informal manner put 
the audience at ease and in a cheerful frame. He insisted on 
the name of each giver being called out because his comments 
were suggested by the names. His humorous allusions were 
born of the moment and there was a spontaneous and a bright- 
ness, coupled with a reverence and seriousness, that made the 
service one of genuine worship. 

On one occasion he stepped to the platform at the General 
Association to take up a collection. One or two men called 
out their subscriptions. He said to Dr. H. C. Smith, the clerk 
of the Association who was near him on the platform "write 
these subscriptions down, as they are called out." Dr. Smith 
who had failed to catch the name of the first subscriber 
called out to Dr. Hatcher who was asking for other subscrip- 
tions. 

"Doctor, who was the first man?" Dr. Hatcher turned 
around as if in surprise looked at Dr. Smith and said "Adam." 

He took up hundreds of collections, but he did not naturally 
like to do such work. He shrank from it. In his early 
ministry certain cases of need drove him to ask for an offering 
and he would engineer such ingatherings so skillfully and suc- 
cessfully that his fame as a collection taker spread and he was 
pressed into service on every hand. But he generally did it 
with inward protest and reluctance. 

As an indication of his ability to remember names it may 
be mentioned that on a Sunday, in the latter part of March, 
he gave the right hand of fellowship to 90 new members. They 



REMEMBERING NAMES 297 

were stretched in a line at the front across the entire church 
and as he moved along the line he spoke a few words to each 
person, calling that "person's name and his wife writes 
"He was as quick to remember and call names as ever-only 
having to ask names of three persons. Is it not remarkable." 
These 90 persons had come into his membership through the 
meetings which were still progressing at his church. He had 
in his congregation a family, by the name of Cousins, and in the 
family was a boy who had been living away from Richmond 
for a good while. He met Dr. Hatcher on the street one day, 
but did not expect the Doctor to remember him. He spoke 
in very cordial fashion with the youth who said to him, "Dr. 
Hatcher, you dont remember me, do you?" "Oh" said the 
Doctor "I never forget my cousins." He remembered names 
because he naturally took keen interest in people. 

Never had his pastoral joys been higher than now. "Sunday 
was a great day at Grace Street" he writes. "Think of it, — 
779 in the Sunday School. House full, top and bottom, at 
our 11 o'clock service." In this same letter he gives a picture 
of one of those unpleasant little "tilts" that sometimes though 
very rarely, mar the intercourse of ministers when wrought 
up by their straining labors. This little stir quickly dissolved, 
showing that there was nothing permanent, or bitter in it. 

"We had an unpleasant experience in the preachers' meeting 

yesterday. preached at Church Sunday 

morning and expressed a wish to come down and help me re- 
ceive my new members. I sent my buggy up for him to come 

after he got through with the service. This offended and 

he made complaints against us at the preachers' meeting. This 

led Dr. to say some things that were very offensive 

to and myself. We had a scene and I regretted it 

beyond measure. Not that I did any thing that I felt con- 
demned for. X got very penitent and confessed that 

he acted unwisely. It is not good to write about and you can 
forget it. I think the fellows are so wrought up by the meeting 
that they are nervous. I am sure that it will soon pass 
away. 

"But let not this give you a moment of worry. Do your own 



298 VISIT OF THE ENGLISH BAPTISTS 

work. Trust in the Lord and your revival will come. Do not 
hurt your voice by preaching too often." 

It has been mentioned how on the previous Summer, while 
in England, he had visited the College of the Strict Baptists 
and had invited the president, Dr. Edward Parker, to attend 
the Southern Baptist Convention in the following May. That 
invitation was accepted. The Convention met in Memphis 
and its most memorable feature was the welcome service in 
honor of its English guest, Dr. Parker and his party. Dr. 
Hatcher, who presented them to the Convention, thus writes 
regarding the visit: 

"In some respects the welcome of the deputation of the 
English brethren was the most thrilling incident of the meeting. 
After a brief introduction by this writer, Dr. Parker and Mr. 
Shaw both spoke. Their addresses were brief, frank and gen- 
uinely eloquent. Dr. Parker swept the crowd like a tempest 
and so great was the excitement when he closed that it was 
difficult to subdue the audience sufficiently to get a hearing 
for Dr. Broadus, who responded for the Convention and who 
made one of the most felicitous and brilliant speeches of his 
inimitable life." 

Dr. Parker on Sunday morning was given the place of honor 
in being asked to preach at the morning service at the Church 
at which the Convention was being held and once again he 
captured his hearers by his discourse. Some one spoke of Dr. 
Hatcher as the "Warwick of the Convention", meaning that 
he was the maker of its presidents. But he claimed no such 
title and had no desire to play such a part. It is true that 
nearly all the presidents of the Convention who were elected 
during his connection with the Convention from this day 
forward were nominated by him, but he was always forced 
to the front by the friends of the nominee. He went to denom- 
inational gatherings with no personal axes to grind, though 
his own grindstone was kept unusually busy. Those states 
which had their candidates for office in the Convention fre- 



THE SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION 299 

quently seemed to think that if they could get Dr. Hatcher 
to champion their man it would be a great point gained and 
many were the appeals that were thus brought to him. Dele- 
gations from cities that were seeking the next Convention 
for their own city would solicit his championship of their 
cause. I do not wish to overstate it but it seems generally 
agreed that when the Convention was called to face critical 
issues, when important papers were to be drawn up and crucial 
decisions made by the Convention that to no one man was 
there a more general turning for leadership than to Dr. Hatcher. 
The feeling seemed to be that he was so devoid of personal 
schemes of his own in the Convention, and had such tact and 
wisdom and such large interest in the work of the Denomination 
that his judgment could be safely trusted. 

"If asked to name the man who was the most effective single 
factor in the Southern Baptist Convention/'says Dr. J. M. 
Frost. "I could name no one who would outrank William E. 
Hatcher of Virginia. His guiding genius was potent in many 
ways. Others might find time for leisure during its session 
or absent themselves from its meeting, but he made the busi- 
ness of the Convention his first business when in attendance on 
its meetings. It was his custom to choose a seat in easy reach 
of the presiding officer and there he could be found at every 
meeting and watching everything with intensest interest. It 
was a matter of conscience with him and in this he set a high 
example and rendered valuable service. In our great gatherings 
he will be sadly missed and many will wish for his presence 
and for his helpful words." 

Dr. J. F. Love tells me that at one of the sessions of the Con- 
vention he greatly desired a resolution passed by the Con- 
vention that would help him meet a critical denominational 
issue in Arkansas where he was then Secretary of State Mis- 
sions. It was an issue that affected also the Southern Baptist 
Convention and it was important that the Convention should 
at that meeting put itself in a wise attitude towards a certain 
constituency in Arkansas. He went to Judge Haralson, the pres- 
ident of the Convention, told him the situation, and said "And 



300 THE SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION 

now Judge, if I may suggest the man whom I would like for 
you to appoint as chairman of the committee, the man who 
would have to write the paper to be adopted by the Convention, 
I want to ask that you appoint Dr. Hatcher. We need a man of 
singular wisdom and level headedness to draw up such a 
document and I think Dr. Hatcher is the man." 

Dr. Hatcher was appointed to prepare the paper and with 
many other people and tasks pulling at him at that Convention 
he wrote the paper which was adopted by the Convention and 
which, Dr. Love says, helped to save the day in Arkansas. 

This incident occured at a later Convention but is mentioned 
here as showing his influence in the Convention. It was at this 
Memphis Convention that a new President of the Convention 
was to be elected and the friends of Judge Haralson of Alabama 
had asked Dr. Hatcher to place the Judge's name in nomination. 
Dr. Hatcher had two warm personal friends, — one of these 
Judge Haralson and the other a distinguished layman in another 

Southern state, Col and the friends of this latter 

gentleman had also asked Dr. Hatcher to champion the cause 
of their man for the presidency of the Convention in Memphis. 
He was in a quandary but was soon relieved by a letter from 
the latter friend releasing him from any obligation to present 
his name and giving way to the other gentleman. He presented 
Judge Haralson's name to the Convention and it was generally 
agreed that it was his speech that won him the nomination. 
A noble spirit was Judge Haralsom For many years the Con- 
vention insisted on his wearing the presidential honor and 
with gentleness, courtesy and firmness he wielded the gavel and 
through it all he clung to Dr. Hatcher with affectionate de- 
pendence, not in any cringing, or helpless way, for he was a 
master in his direction of the exercises, but I would often hear 
him say, as he would walk arm in arm with him, "Hatcher, 
you must keep near me, to help me." They loved each other 
and were close counselors about denominational matters. 

During this Convention he presented a resolution which 
precipitated a discussion. The debate became animated and 



THE SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION 301 

several entered the fray. Rev. Dr. arose to oppose 

the resolution and plunged into an earnest speech, talking 
however in somewhat rambling fashion. At a certain point 
in his remarks he swung from his track, following another line 
of thought. When he sought to return from his side remarks 
to the main line of his speech he could not find the track. He 
stopped abruptly, looked around in a bewildered way, and in 
high tones called out: 

" Where was I before I was interrupted?" 

"I think you were back in the dark ages" ventured Dr. 
Hatcher. 

The explosion of laughter that followed well nigh shook the 
rafters. The remark could hardly be entered in the list of 
"kind words" to an opponent and yet it was not made with 
any malice afore-thought and, as for the audience that had 
been overstrained by the excited debate, — it jolted them into 
a restful good humor. At another time in the Convention 
the tide of the discussion was running high. Some of the big 
guns were in the field, the firing commenced and a battle 
seemed imminent. Dr. Hatcher stepped into the breach, — 
but let Rev. Harry Bagby tell the story: 

"My first view of Dr. Hatcher was to me very impressive. 
It was at a meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention, in 
Memphis, in 1889. The Convention had under consideration 
the report on Missions in Papal fields. Dr. A. C. Dixon, at 
that time pastor in the city of Baltimore, delivered an address 
in which he undertook to lay bare the heresies, the corruption 
and the dangers of Romanism in America. His phillipic would 
have done credit to Demosthenes in his prime. He cried 
aloud and spared not. He was followed by Dr. Henry Mc- 
Donald who was born and bred a Roman Catholic. He ad- 
mitted the truthfulness of what Dr. Dixon had said, but de- 
clared it to be his conviction that it was unwise to attack Roman- 
ism in that way in America. He then described a visit to his 
old home in Ireland. He told of meeting his Roman Catholic 
brother whom he had not seen for forty years. He described 
how they went together into the garden, and knelt at their 
sainted mother's grave and prayed together, protest ant on 



302 TWO NEW LECTURES 

one side and the Roman Catholic on the other. He melted 
the audience to tears, and Dr. Dixon was knocked out with 
one blow. Everybody saw it would be very unfortunate to 
engage in a heated discussion on that subject at such a time 
and in such a place. As Dr. McDonald closed, Dr. Hatcher 
got the floor. I have never heard a brighter speech than that 
which followed in the next five minutes. Among other things 
he said, 'My brethren we are living in the most marvelous 
age in all the world's history. We have heard on this platform 
in one hour the fiery Martin Luther and the gentle Phillip 
Melancthon. We have heard this afternoon from the two 
Johns. One said '0 generation of vipers, who hath warned 
you to flee from the wrath to come' ; the other said 'My little 
children a new commandment I write unto you, that you love 
one another.' And now it seems to me brethren that it is a 
good time to stop.' The effect was elastic, the incident left 
every one smiling and happy." 

In a few days he was back in Virginia busy with his tasks 
and travels. He had prepared, since his return from his Europ- 
pean journeys, two new lectures, one on "Spurgeon and His 
Work" and the other on "Crossing the Sea", and on those 
two topics he lectured in nearly every section of Virginia. He 
delivered in one of the lower counties of the state his lecture 
on Spurgeon. After the lecture he was walking around the 
church building when an old fellow with a grinning face and a 
draggy manner of speech walked up to him and, in a confi- 
dential tone, drawled out: 

"Say, Dr. Hatcher; that man Spurg — I think you said that 
was his name — I say that man Spurg must have been a right 
nice man." The lecturer's reply is not on record but it is con- 
sidered extremely probable that he cherished very much the 
same opinion as his smiling brother. The following letter of 
May 24th will give an idea of his busy manner of life. 

"My Dear E: 

"I went to Fredericksburg, Monday. I had a church to 
dedicate Tuesday and on Tuesday night I had a great crowd 
to hear my "Spurgeon and his work" at Dr. Dunaway's church. 
I have not been well since I got home. I go this afternoon to 



AT THE DOVER ASSOCIATION 303 

meet committee on Dr. Winfree's monument. How I wish 
that I could see you there. I am anticipating my time with 
you next week. . . Monday I go to Suffolk and will not 
get back until Wednesday." 

The letter refers to "Dr. Winfree's monument." Dr. Winfree 
was an honored pastor in Chesterfield County and a distin- 
guished preacher and Dr. Hatcher had promised to help the 
Chesterfield people in their movement for a monument to 
their late pastor. Dr. Wright of Suffolk, in writing about the 
lecture on Spurgeon delivered at his church, says: 

"The house was literally packed and the crowds stood out- 
side at the windows and doors unable to get in. At the close 
of the lecture, and before the audience knew what he was about, 
the Doctor began a skillful onslaught upon the assembled 
crowd in the interest of the building fund of our new church 
and in a short time secured nearly $1200. He has our profound 
gratitude for his successful management of this entire matter." 

At the Dover Association he arose to speak and Dr. L 

called out: "If Dr. Hatcher is going to discuss the Kind 
Words publication then I make the point of order that he is 
out of order." 

"Brother Moderator" replied Dr. Hatcher "I am puzzled 

to know how Dr. L has found out what my speech is 

going to be. I am willing to submit to the judgment of the 
moderator whether a point of order, raised against a speech 
which has not been made, is a valid point or not." The mod- 
erator ruled that it was not and Dr. Hatcher made it plain 
that he had not arisen for the purpose indicated in brother 
L 's point of order. 

It was during this Summer that a new fountain of pleasure 
was opened to him from which he drank to his soul's refreshment 
to the end of his life. This fountain was "Chesterfield," — a 
county lying on the opposite of the James River from Richmond. 
I was pastor of three country churches in that county, 
and his visits to me during my residence in the county 



304 MEETINGS IN CHESTERFIELD 

linked him with the churches and people in that section in 
a way that gave them a place in his heart that was never 
lost and that made Chesterfield a sacred tramping ground for 
him. He came to speak of it in his letters to me as "the sacred 
soil" and of times in telling of his drives across the river he 
would speak of having "struck for the sacred hills." He helped 
me in meetings at two of my churches, being prevented from 
being with me at the Tomahawk church of which his grand- 
father, Jeremiah Hatcher had once been pastor. 

At my Skinquarter church his opening sermon was on 
"Christ knocking at the door of the church" and at the con- 
clusion of the sermon the congregation was overcome with emo- 
tion, and the deacon who attempted to lead in prayer broke 
down and sobbed and yet he himself remained calm; he did not 
allow himself to be swept away by the storm of feeling which 
his own sermon had created, but held himself in hand that 
he might direct the forces in the meeting. It was as if he had 
said "Express your feelings, if you are so moved to do, but 
understand this is not the revival; we are just beginning; and 
there is much yet to be done." The meeting proved to be a 
glorious one, but it was at Bethlehem church that he had his 
crowning experience. He led the singing, taught the con- 
gregation new songs; they responded to his every touch and 
his soul reveled in it all. The meeting had in it some wonderful 
incidents which left their echoes singing in his soul during all 
his remaining years. 

He had his buggy with hiim and he and I would drive each 
night to a new home. One night we drew up at old Mr. Ly- 
bargers, — and a crustier and odder old character it would be 
hard to find, and yet that night, as my father began to dig 
into him, he found a gold mine of interesting qualities. I 
had warned him before-hand that he would find the old man 
a bundle of inconsistences. He thus wrote about his visit: 

"I can testify that the old gentleman lived up to his recom- 
mendations that night. His English was badly shattered, but 
he was quick of mind, brimming with humor, sarcastic, defiant 



BETHLEHEM 305 

and skeptical. As soon as supper was over, he opened fire. 
He slashed the preachers, plucked the churches and sneered 
revivals out of countenance. I think I never heard any man 
make a more clever, or damaging, assault upon religion as 
embodied in individuals and churches of that day. Much 
that he said was true and so intermixed with what was not 
true that it was hard to handle him. Indeed I gave him full 
rein and expressed approval of many things that he said. He 
ran riot with invective and seemed for awhile intoxicated with 
the sense of victory." 

Mrs. Lybarger and I sat by keenly interested as spectators. 
They had it hard and long. The old man got our horse next 
morning, fighting all the time against the suggestion of his 
going to church. We drove out to Bethlehem, started the 
meetings for the day and one of its many happy features was 
the presence and the conversion of the old man, and the letters 
from my father in later years were destined to tell me of many 
drives he had had up to "Brother Lybarger's". My father 
loved to keep in touch with his old friend and to put whatever 
light he could upon his christian pathway. The meetings 
were rich in fruit. At one of the homes where we were spending 
the night it seemed to him, after we had retired, that I was 
restless and worried about something and he called out to me 
from his bed, in solicitous tones, saying; "My boy, do you feel 
that I am taking too much of the meeting out of your hands?" 
It took me not a second of time to banish any such delusion 
from his mind. 

He loved to tell of the conversion in that Bethlehem 
meeting of old Brother Orrell, over 90 years of age and of a 
little boy of tender age. When they were received for baptism 
they were together and Dr. Hatcher made touching reference 
to the aged man and the little lad coming into the kingdom 
side by side. On the day of the baptism, with the crowds 
lining the banks of the stream they carried the old man into 
the water side by side with the boy. He was baptized first 
and as they started to carry him out of the water he stopped 
them, saying; "Oh I must wait for my little friend" and there 



306 BETHLEHEM 

he remained until the boy was baptized and together they went 
out of the water. Not very long after that Dr. Hatcher went 
to Bethlehem to preach the funeral of this old man. At a 
certain point in the service he told the story of the old man and 

his little friend and then looking out over the throng 

of people he said "What has become of that boy?" "Here he is" 
came the answer and Dr. Hatcher learned to his joy that the 
boy was developing into an active, useful member of the church. 

On November, 3rd, he wrote me at the Louisville Seminary : 

"Dear Eldridge: 

"Here it is again. I am in Richmond and at my desk on 
Sunday night writing to you. If we live I suppose this will 
be the first of an enormous mass of letters that will go to you 
from my pen for the next three years. But I cannot quite 
promise to write every Sunday night but I will give you the 
best I can. 

"Dr. was to begin a series of 'Family Homilies' 

tonight. His first theme was ' Winning a wife'. Lizzie had 
to remark that he had won so many wives that she supposed 
he felt specially prepared to tell how it ought to be done." 






CHAPTER XXVI 

1889-1891 

TRIPS TO CHESTERFIELD. PEACEFUL SOLUTION OF CHURCH TROU- 
BLES. EDITORIAL CRITICISMS. NEW BUILDING. INTEREST 
IN PLAIN PEOPLE. PUTTING HONOR UPON OTHERS. 
KINDNESS TO YOUNG PREACHERS. 

One result of the Bethlehem meetings was the beginning of 
one of the dearest friendships of his life. A young preacher, 
Rev. Robert H Winfree, had his pastoral field in the same part 
of the county as mine and a little nearer to Richmond. He 
felt singularly drawn to this young preacher from the start 
and called him sometimes "Bob" and sometimes "Robert". 
Dr. Hatcher was ardent in his attachments, not only to his 
personal friends, but also to communities. There was 
something in his soul that cried out for fellowship with 
those he had come to love and sometimes even for places 
like Bedford and Chesterfield that had become endeared to 
him by sacred experiences. At first he shrank from going 
back over the Chesterfield roads which we had traveled in our 
meetings. He wrote me "I confess it puts a lonely feeling upon 
me to cross the bridge and head towards old Chesterfield. 
You have spoiled that country for me as I will hate to run 
the old roads without having you along." But the yearning 
for the old roads and the people soon returned and more and 
more the home of his friend, Robert Winfree, became a beloved 
place to him. In fact Chesterfield became his recreation annex 
for the next few years and what his croquet games formerly 
did for him at the College was now done for him by his Chester- 
field trips. He could jump in his buggy, and in a few minutes 

307 



308 CHESTERFIELD 

be on the other side of the river and scuddying through Man- 
chester and out along the Midlothian turnpike. Not only did 
his buggy generally carry some little trinkets, or sweets, as he 
drove up to one of the Chesterfield homes, but he was fertile 
in expedients for ministering to the people. After a heavy 
strain of toil in the city it meant a rejuvenation to him to jump 
in his buggy, take a boy, or a preacher, with him, and go 
"careering" out over the hills into the "sacred country." 
In a letter to me, at this time, he writes regarding Dr. Whit- 
field, one of the Richmond pastors; "He is dear to me — in fact 
I hold him first among the pastors in Richmond. He is so 
true and wise." He yearned for just such companionships. 
They gave him a refreshing relaxation from his pastoral and 
denominational strains. Many were the times that Dr. Theo- 
dore Whitfield and he climbed the Chesterfield hills and spent 
the night at "Robert's", or at some other Chesterfield home. 
The next letter draws a picture of one of his visits, which letter 
he knew I would keenly enjoy. 

"My Dear Eldridge: 

"I begin early this time and hope to give you a very juicy 
topic by the time it is finished. Robert Winfree was ordained 
today Tuesday at Bethel. Dr. Whitfield and I went up and 
spent Monday night at Baker's. Bagby was there and we spent 
a delightful evening together. We had a fine day for the or- 
dination. Bob bore himself quite handsomely in the examination. 
I conducted the examination and did not put it very severely 
for him. The congregation was excellent and the sermon seemed 
to make an excellent impression. "Brudder Joe" was there 
and he looked uncommonly well. Dr. Hancock was there and 
Frank with him. My heart is burdened for Frank; he is a fine 
boy and capable of great things. . . Write him if you have 
a spare moment." 

"On Dec. 15th, he wrote: 

"My Dear E: 

"We had a big memorial service in honor of Jeff Davis on 
last Wednesday. It was held at Second Baptist Church and 
the crowd was overflowing. Drs. and spoke 



NEW YEAR'S RECEPTION 309 

and did it well. I had to preside and made a brief speech which 
was said to be good. It was a modest blushing kind of per- 
formance which fairly veiled its face before the glare of 

G 's rhetoric and the measured roll of L — f s 

voice. Dr. was asked to be the orator of the occasion 

but declined. He was much criticized and many said that he 
could not praise Davis lest he should. . . As I did not 
know why he did not speak, I could say nothing on the sub- 
ject." 

The time seemed ripe for him to strike for a new church 
building. For fourteen years he had labored with increasing 
congregations in the old structure, the church relieving itself 
on two or three occasions by sending out colonies to establish 
new churches. 

On Sunday morning during the Christmas season Dr. Hatcher 
startled his congregation by making the surprising announce- 
ment: 

"On New Year's Day I expect to celebrate at my home the 
25th anniversary of my marriage and I give a hearty invitation 
to every one of you to be present and I ask each of you to 
bring me a silver present". His wife said she caught her 
breath at this last remark saying to herself "What can he 
mean? I never heard him make such a statement before; but 
he kept us in suspense for only a second and he added 'to be 
used in building the church. I want $12,000.' " 
• He trod the heights on that New Year's day at his Reception 
as he and his wife greeted the throngs of members and friends 
that crowded into his home during the afternoon and evening. 
Among those who came were the Baptists pastors, who pre- 
sented to him an "exquisitely beautiful and costly silver 
present." But the out-standing feature of the Reception was 
the report of the deacons near the close of the day announcing 
that $12,000, the amount asked for, — had been raised during 
the day. In such financial campaigns he always gave largely. 
His wife says she thinks that he gave $1,000 towards the 
new building. Whenever any one would chide him for what 
often seemed reckless giving on his part he would reply "I 



310 EXPERIENCE IN WASHINGTON 

must give because the Lord gives to me" and he might pos- 
sibly have added with equal truthfulness that the Lord gave so 
abundantly to him because he gave so freely to his cause. 
It might be mentioned that his frequent practice of taking up 
collections for others put a drain, not only on his vocal powers, 
but often on his own purse. 

He had an interesting experience at this time in Washington 
where, in conjunction with Dr. George C. Lorimer, he preached 
at the dedication of the First Baptist Church of that city. Dr. 
Lorimer preached an eloquent sermon in the morning, but 
a large part of his audience went out after the sermon, not 
waiting for the collection. Dr. Hatcher preached at night and 
after his sermon made some complimentary allusion to his 
audience, whereupon Dr. Lorimer broke in with the remark: 

"No man ever had a finer set of hearers than I had at this 
morning's service." To which Dr. Hatcher replied: 

"I can safely say that my audience will never forsake me as 
ingloriously as yours did this morning. If it should, I think 
I would go out and hang myself." 

"The audience broke into happy laughter" said Dr. Hatcher 
"and went quite beyond the morning audience in its contri- 
bution to the church fund." 

It was a curious experience which he had. He was very 
sick during the day and yet when he arose to preach at night 
his ailment fled. "Sunday I suffered intensely from nausea" 
he wrote "and yet I do not remember that I ever enjoyed 
preaching more in my life." After the service his sickness 
returned, pursued him to the hotel and rolled him in delirium 
during the night. Upon his return to Richmond he addressed 
himself to his campaign for his new building, but troubles lay 

ahead of him. "Your father is afraid that X and his 

party will defeat it" writes my mother referring to the church 
building enterprise. 

"There is evidently a counter current against us" he writes 
me, "and it sometimes makes me nervous but my trust is in 
the Lord. If we are not to have a new church I can submit but 
I hope it will come." 



A CLIMAX IN GRACE STREET 311 

These were stressful days for him. "I find myself badly used 
up by my varied cares" he writes "and am trying to lighten 
my burdens. It is hard to endure such a strain." How for- 
tunate it was that in times of strain he could exchange his 
burdens for a bright visit to one of his Chesterfield homes. 
He draws a vivid picture of such an outing. 

"On Friday afternoon I jumped into my buggy, picked up 
Woodie and hied us forth for the sacred hills of Chesterfield. 
I took the River road and landed about sunset at Carey Win- 
ston's. Carey was ploughing in the field in front of the house 
and saw me coming and he yelled out a joyful welcome. They 
saw me from the house and by the time I got out of the buggy 
and got into the house they had a roaring fire ready for me. 
Mrs. Carey Winston had toothache; she was suffering in- 
tensely, but she got better. The night was like an elysian 
dream. How glad they seemed to be. They thanked me for 
coming, as if I had done them a great service. We had hours 
of fine talk. They gave me a lovely room to sleep in. It was 
really delicious to hear them talk so hopefully and affection- 
ately about their church." 

At last the climax came. For many years there had been a 
factional element in the church that caused trouble. A few 
years before this time, however, those who had opposed him 
had laid down their arms and in many ways had cooperated 
with him since that time; but the sea had not been perfectly 
calm and there had been strains and breaks in the membership. 
But at a meeting of the church at this time the end came, these 
particular members and others with them withdrawing from 
the church. On the next morning my father writes me: "The 
agony is over. Last night was a dismal rainy time, but the 
ends of the earth came to church. I had my fears for I knew 
that there had been some bad talking." He then describes the 
manner in which letters were asked for for about 30 of the mem- 
bers — among them those who had given him trouble at intervals 
during his pastorate. The request for the letters was granted. 
"It was a peaceful solution of an old trouble" he said. "It 
may leave some sores and we may lose a few more but Grace 
Street will go marching on. The Lord is with us." 



312 THE FACTIONAL TROUBLES 

"Great events in the history of Grace Street have transpired 
since I last wrote you" writes my mother. "We have passed 
through a season of trials, anxiety and partial excitement. . . 
I feel however, that, as severe as the ordeal is, it is best for us 
and the church at last. Your father is full of faith and cour- 
age and thinks there is a brighter day coming for old Grace 
Street." 

The story of the factional troubles in his church are told 
in these pages with no desire whatever to reopen any old 
wounds, or to make any unkind flings at any one. 

Not one trace of bitterness remained in my father's heart 
towards those who opposed him. He and they in the after years, 
while connected with different churches, mingled in christian 
fraternity and co-operated freely in religious work. It seems 
to have been a case where certain persons for some reason 
did not work in harmony with the pastor and the rest of the 
church and so they went into other churches where they felt 
they could be happier. There were others who thought it 
best to go with them. If those who went out felt a relief, 
this feeling was also shared by pastor and church and the 
general sentiment was that the action taken was a fortunate 
culmination of a long growing trouble. It gave the church a 
jar which some thought meant that the day of doom had come 
and yet as the church closed up the ranks it found itself gathered 
into a compact unit such as it had never been before. 

Someone asked him for his advice in preparing a set of rules 
for the government of his church membership. He thus replied : 

"Our advice is to conjure up a whole lot of rules, — say forty 
or forty five — to write them neatly on half sheets of foolscap 
(writing only on one side) making them touch all subjects 
such as dancing, Sunday excursion, drinking, cooking on the 
Lord's Day, attending church meetings, strifes among brethren, 
stealing, cheating, going in debt, and very many other things, 
too numerous to mention at this time and then to put the 
document in a large white envelope and neatly to drop it 
into a roaring wood fire allowing it to remain, say, for a couple 
of hours and then to take it out and present what is left to the 
church." 



THE "LAND BOOM" ARTICLE 313 

"In the splendid home of this good and great man it was my 
pleasure to rest for several days" writes Rev. J. A. Leslie. 
"The wonder is how Dr. and Mrs. Hatcher find time to do such 
great things for the Lord in so many different ways and places." 

He set his heart upon having a splend d church edifice, a 
building adequate for large denominational gatherings, as 
well as for his own church services. 

As a rule he had only kind words for his brother ministers, 
but there were times when he would let fly his arrows of criti- 
cism. He wrote an article for a Baptist weekly that produced 
a commotion. In this communciation he attacked the practice 
of certain ministers becoming mixed up with "land booms" and 
sent the article to the editor. The article seemed so severe 
that the editor became panic stricken about it and wrote the 
following letter: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher: 

"Prepare to fight! My, my; if you havn't a first class row 

on hand now, then there is no fight in the "C " men 

or in the C of F . 

"Why those expressions of No. 5 in your 'High Places' are 

perfectly awful. W in reading the proof called Mrs. 

Hatcher's [who was visiting in the editor's city at that time] 
attention to them. When I came to the office, I ran up to 
see the good wife and to ask her to strike out the heart of that 
paragraph. 

"But she had flown down the street. So I returned and said 
to the printer, 'I'll seek a bomb proof, so put in the initials 
'W. E. H.' But, my; wont the shot rattle on our roof soon. 
I'll fly the white flag and cry 'On to Richmond'. You began 
this row and you must fight it out, if it takes all Summer. If 
your foes leave a few remnants of your body, I'll try to do 
you a service by gathering them together and having a res- 
pectable funeral. 

"But seriously you were awful. You must have felt in a 
savage humor when you wrote those paragraphs." 

The editor was correct. The shot did begin to rattle. A 
very prominent minister in another state felt that the article 



314 THE COUNCIL 

was aimed at him and he indignantly informed Dr. Hatcher 
that he was coming to Richmond for a settlement. 

A "council" of four ministers was called, two of them re- 
presenting Dr. Hatcher and the other two representing the 
aggrieved minister, who came to Richmond for the meeting. 
The six brethren came together and the brother charged that 
Dr. Hatcher had done him a public wrong in the aforesaid 
article and demanded that the matter be set right. In writing 
me about the council he says that the indignant minister 
"took an hour, or more, in explaining his connection with the 

X Land Booms which had no connection with our 

quarrel. I told them my article was not designed to injure 
anybody but to correct a growing evil among preachers, — that 
if any had been wounded by my editorial, it was simply because 
they had put themselves in the way of my fire. The Committee 
said that my explanation was satisfactory and would not rec- 
ommend that any public statement as to the affair should be 
made, unless Dr. X wished it and I was willing. 

"As a simple fact, I was not hitting X . I told him 

that I could not forget, while writing the article, his record on 
the Land Boom business, but it was no wish of mine to hurt 
him. I only was anxious that he should not hurt anybody 
else. Thus it ended. A small and transient sensation." 

While his editorial pen dropped kindness in nearly every 
paragraph, yet he had in him the critical element, and he was 
unsparing in his denunciations when occasion called for it. 
He sought to correct faults, not simply in his children, but in 
boys and young preachers. He opened fire in his paper against 
the practice of some preachers in that day of delivering little 
"Preludes" before their regular sermons. He scored those 
evangelists who were in a habit when beginning a meeting 
in a town of whipping the town into a tempest by denunciations 
of absent officials and by other such sensational methods. 

He had a niece to whom he was much attached. He said 
to her one day: 

"You must watch your tongue, Bettie; you will hurt more 
people with it than you help, if you dont mind," to which she 
somewhat bluntly replied: 



A NEW CHURCH CONTEMPLATED 315 

"Well, Uncle William; how about your watching your pen?" 
She knew that he was very free in expressing himself in the 
public press regarding the things he did not like. During his 
connection with the Herald he reprimanded a Virginia 
Bishop for declaring, in a heated manner in a public gathering, 
that he would not be "bullied or baited" by any one. Dr. 
Hatcher felt that such public words by such a prominent 
church official were improper and so — to the dismay of many — 
he opened fire. 

He was present at a conference in Richmond of certain Baptist 
ministers and laymen. He was a young pastor then and in 
the conference was a Richmond layman, venerable and imposing 
in appearance and one of the richest if not the richest Baptist 
in the state, a man held in high respect by all and in the con- 
ference his word was practically law. No one seemed disposed 
to dispute his sway. His tone must have bordered on the 
omniscient — at any rate young Mr. Hatcher thought so and 

when at a certain point in the discussion old brother T 

said with a sort of dogmatic drawl, "Well, I did not know that" 
the young preacher could restrain himself no longer and he 

said in a most impressive way "brethren, brother T 

states that he did not know that and it goes to prove that there 

is one thing in the world that brother T did not 

know." The old gentleman felt a jolt and maybe had one or 
two thoughts that were not recorded in the minutes of the 
meeting. 

His church had decided to erect a large and magnificient 
structure. A temporary tabernacle was built in which to hold 
the services during the construction of the new building. Re- 
garding his old church, which was now being taken to pieces, he 
writes : 

"As a ruin it has a pathetic and sorrowful look and it makes 
me faint of soul to go by it, though my sickness of spirit may 
spring, in part, from the burden of building the new house." 

He took active interest in the establishment of a Baptist 



316 SUMMER TRAVELS 

Orphanage for the state, was appointed as chairman of a com- 
mittee of the General Association to select a location for the 
institution and went twice with the committee on a tour of in- 
spection of certain towns in the state. In one of his letters 
he says, "I have breakfast in the morning for Felix and Dixon." 
This sentence points to a favorite custom with him, — that of 
having "breakfasts" for his ministerial visitors. Dr. Landrum, 
in a public discourse once spoke of "Breakfasts at Dr. Hatcher's" 
as one of the happy social events in the life of the Richmond 
pastors. 

During the Summer he spent his vacation among the country 
churches. At the James River Association it was said, "Dr. 
Hatcher was never in better trim. He preached with more 
than usual power and unction," and a correspondent from 
Jeffersonton where he held a week's meetings writes, "How 
we were all drawn to Dr. Hatcher, the prince of Southern 
preachers." 

After attending the Middle District Association, he writes 
me on Aug. 8th: 

preached the sermon and it was not well re- 



ceived. It was very censorious, cold and pessimistic. He has 
evidently been in trouble and lost faith in humanity. I think 
that I will write to him and try to cheer him up. . . I 
called out Dudley Rudd and he made a clear and sensible 
statement as to his work at Powhatan station. We then got a 
collection for him, amounting to $127. He was wonderfully 
set up. I am to preach for him next Sunday afternoon. Today 
I am crushed with manifold work and must cut short my letter." 

His Summer travels, included Brooklyn and Saratoga N. Y. 
With his return to Richmond he grappled in vigorous fashion 
his building campaign. The following letter of Oct. 4th, gives 
us a peep behind the scenes : 

"My Dear Eldridge: 

"Today has been glorious and I celebrated it with a game of 
croquet. This has been an anxious week with me. We had 
$3,000 to raise and Foster was sick. But the brethren got their 



INTEREST IN PLAIN PEOPLE 317 

blood up and the money came in. I put in $100 and that rather 
put my blood somewhat down; but I am in for the war and am 
going to put in my 'blood and treasure'. . . I got blue one 
day, — just for an hour and I was very blue, but I soon got back 
to my standing ground that the Lord was in the movement 
and will carry us through. . . I went around to see my 
beloved brother Gates last night. What a comfort he is to me. 

He told me a bit of news. He says that X is not 

happy at church. ... I am not specially in- 
terested in his coming back. I would not move my finger to 
bring him back as a matter of triumph over that faction. I 
scorn to dip as low as that. I am seeking to elevate the tone 
of my church and I think it will come. My people seem happy 
and united. 

"Sunday night. . . My people seem to think my sermons 
were above average, but I am sore because of my lack of 
spiritual power. I must see the people coming to Christ.' ' 

It was a marked characteristic of his to take interest in the 
plain people about him, — in fact in people of all classes. He 
might be buying candy from a confectioner, or having his shoes 
shined or buying a newspaper; — whatever the simple transac- 
tion might be, he treated the person with whom he was dealing 
as a neighbor — yea, as a brother and he generally fell into an 
interesting colloquy with him. "Nothing that is human was 
alien to him" writes Dr. Dodd. "He had the eye which singles 
out worth everywhere." He often saw in people what super- 
ficial observers failed to see and his stories of striking 
characters whom he had met were due to his discovering and 
eliciting the finer traits in plain people. Concerning his old 
barber, he wrote me on Oct. 12th: 

"My old Barber Hobson died Friday. It was a real grief to 
me for he was a good man and one of my most ardent friends. 
It was always a pleasant experience to hear him talk. He was 
a Baptist deacon and uncommonly intelligent. He was a 
reader of the Baltimore Baptist and always had pithy remarks 
to make on my productions. I was sorry that I could not go 
to his funeral." 

These were busy days with him. His church was to hold a 
Bazaar, and he wrote that the "Boys Table" would "have a 



318 THE PORTRAIT PAINTER 

mountain of things.. . . I had a fine game of croquet this 
afternoon and won three games. I had my same pale-eyed 
D for my partner. 

"Saturday morning. I am much interested in your editorial 
work. Seek to purify your style and begin to use your imagi- 
nation. Right often you must draw elaborate word-pictures. 
Do not be afraid of being florid and sophomoric. If your imagi- 
nation is truthful, it cannot be too lofty in its fights. The 
world is sluggish and needs to be pleased with pictures." 

This paragraph gives a peep into his own literary workshop. 
His popularity as a writer was largely due to the fact that 
he would in imagination see what he was writing, and, thus 
with the idea before his gaze he would merely draw it for the 
reader, — he would paint it. He knew how to use his colors 
and it was for this reason that his greatest sermons were his 
character sermons. In them he became the portrait painter. 
It might be mentioned here that it was his rule never — or with 
rare exceptions — to use the "underscore" in his writings. 

In November the General Association met in Richmond. 
"The Association seems rather dull" writes my mother. "Your 
father got up some jollity tonight in taking a collection for 
two churches. Folks are coming in and I must stop." 

He had a constitutional grudge against dull meetings. It 
may seem an odd method which he employed for breaking 
up the dulness in the above Association, — that of "taking a 
collection for two churches." But therein seemed to lie his art. 
The fact probably was that those two churches had been 
pleading with him during the meeting to champion their cause 
before the Association and — when the exercises had grown 
tiresome — he finally yielded to their importunities. 

In such cases he would arise, as if he was seeking the pro- 
tection of the Association and say something like this: 

"Brother Moderator, I have a pastor, and some of his men, 
here at my heels and I am thinking of moving the appoint- 
ment of a committee of lunacy to examine them. They have 
the impudence to imagine that because they have no church 



HELPING OTHERS 319 

building in which to worship, and very little money with 
which to build them one, that somebody in this Association 
might be willing to help them. I have sought to cure them 
of their insanity but their case grows worse. "Whom are you 
talking about?" some one would call out. "I can't tell you" 
would reply Dr. Hatcher "because they might want a col- 
lection." "Why can't we help them?" would call out another 
and in a few moments the delegates would be insisting on 
helping "that struggling church," the shining coin and the 
greenbacks would be flocking in and Dr. Hatcher would be 
called to the front to direct the little whirlwind which he had 
started. 

"Dear E : "At Rueger's, Monday 2 P. M. 

"Here are Pitt, Whitfield and I. We are here for oysters. 
I send this to say that I met Haddon Watkins just now and 
he told me that the Skinquarter church [in Chesterfield] was 
burned yesterday. It is sad news I have no details." 

"Yours, Wm. E. Hatcher." 

"Richmond Va., Jan. 4th, 1891. 

"My Dear E, — I am very sorry for the Skinquarter people. 
I am conjuring some little scheme to pull them out of the mire. 
Not much can I do, but, in some way, or another, I may give 
them a lift. 

"They have had a protracted meeting at the College" he 
writes, "but it has not come to much. It was conducted by a 

evangelist. I heard him once and was well pleased — 

except that he was decidedly too gushy. They seemed to me 
to be worrying the boys to 'confess', when really they were 
not convicted." 

"Richmond, Feby., 15th, 1891. 

"My Dear E, — I am just from church. Boys Anniversary 
boomed — big crowd and fine speeches from Sleight and Dr. 
Newton. We got $103.81 — good wasn't it? The boys sang 
splendidly. It was a great success. 

"I have not had a word from the fairy land of Chesterfield 
for some weeks. I think that even your intoxicated fancy 
would not be enchanted by a proposed drive up the turnpike 
this time. But we can wait and hope for better days. 



320 REVIVAL MEETINGS 

Concerning his little nephew who was then living in our home 
he writes : 

''Junius bloomed out in his long breeches yesterday and is 
so proud that it is believed that if he were to meet the angel 
Gabriel on the road he would ask him instantly what he thought 
of his breeches." 

Two or three weeks later he writes : 

" Junius has regaled us this week with a capacious case of 
mumps. His jaws have been spread like great banners and the 
sight of him has been a comedy. He has stood the fire of our 
fun and ridicule quite serenely and is now nearly well again." 

The latter part of March he undertook a revival campaign 
in the tabernacle, with Dr. J. S. Felix assisting him. He had 
recently aided Dr. Felix in meetings at his Lynchburg Church. 

"Your father and Dr. Felix, have just started in the rain 
to dinner at Ford's hotel" writes my mother. "Before starting, 
your father gave Dr. Felix some account of his stay in England — 
said that if he were a young man he would go over there and 
help the regular Baptists. . . He gave him at breakfast 
a picture of the Richmond pastors as he first knew them; 
Burrows, at the First, took a notion to wear a gown a little 
while. Dr. Howell at 2nd wore a larger cloak, or toga, thrown 
over his shoulders." 

He writes: "Monday morning. I am now grappling with 
the question as to how we are to get $15,000 in cash during 
the Spring. The Lord must show me how." 

It was no mere form of speech with him when he spoke 
of his dependence on God for aid in his work. He loved men 
but he leaned on God. 

"Richmond, Va., March, 23rd, 1891. 
"My Dear E, — Edith is evidently better. . . She is as 
radiant as a princess. . . Kate is here and we have just 
closed a quarrel on matrimony. I tell her not to marry any 
man whom she can not obey and she says that she will respect, 
but she will not obey the man she marries. She reports an 
immense time in N. C." . 



A YOUNG MAN FROM GERMANY 321 

"My building work lies heavily upon me. We will need 
$15,000 by the end of May. I get dazed at times and yet I am 
sure that my people will realize the situation." 

He showed a great kindness to an old man, not a member of 
his church. His son, not a Baptist, sent him a note and a hand- 
some chair, asking him to accept it as a token of grateful 
esteem. 

"It touched me deeply" writes my father "So many think 
I slight them that I rejoice when one comes back." 

"To-morrow morning the Felixes and other preachers are to 
be here to breakfast," writes my mother, on March 19th, and 
on April 15th, she writes concerning a young man whom he 
took in his home and sought to help : 

"Your father brought in a young man from Germany,— 
who has lived several years in this country, who wants to 
study for the ministry. . . He came here looking for work 
and has not been successful yet. He is surely a bright and inter- 
esting fellow. The girls are highly entertained by him. . . . 
Two other young men have been here recently looking for 
situations, — both from North Carolina. 

"Your father has not improved his physical condition since 
I last wrote. . . He has gone to the College for a game this 
afternoon. . . The bell has kept up an incessant ringing 
while I have been writing — must stop now and see who is the 
last and what his demands are." 

To his daughter Orie he writes on May 5th a letter thanking 
her for a "beautiful present" which she has sent him and con- 
cluding as follows: 

"I am sorry I cannot return you a poetic response to your 
fine lines which accompany your gift. The Muses have never 
been in the least friendly to me and I know that I could not 
woo them in my present mood." 

His love for poetry seemed small. In his early life he was 
fond of it, but this fondness seemed to diminish rather than in- 
crease and during the larger part of his ministry he rarely read, 



322 BROWNING 

or quoted poetry. He said in his later life "I like poetry but I 
never quoted it, because it would never stick in my memory." 
In this connection it may be mentioned that a lady on one 
occasion spoke of the resemblance between Dr. Hatcher and 
Browning and when asked to state the points of resemblance 
she gave the following : 

Love of people. 

Deep interest in human nature. 

Optimism. 

A fighter. 

Love of Reality — contempt of sham. 

Healthy-mindedness. 

Greatly beloved by others 

Vivid anticipation of the other world 

Desire for sudden death. 
He often sought to put honor upon his brethren in denomi- 
national gatherings, by suggesting to the presiding officer 
to call out these brethren and lay certain public tasks upon them. 
It would be interesting to know how many of those who, in 
the Southern Baptist Convention, were called upon to respond 
to the Address of Welcome, were suggested beforehand to the 
President by Dr. Hatcher. Not that there was any agreement 
about this from year to year nor that any of the presiding 
officers felt under any obligation whatever to look to Dr. 
Hatcher for this. But it came to pass that almost each year, 
for many years, he would suggest a brother for that purpose — 
writing to the President days or weeks before the meeting of 
the Convention. He loved to encourage his younger brethren. 
He delighted to stimulate them to larger things and in different 
ways he would bring them to the front. The following letter 
from Judge Haralson, president of the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention, cites a case in point which occured at the meeting in 
Birmingham, which Dr. Hatcher was prevented, by sickness, 
from attending: 

"Selma, Ala., May, 14th, 1891. 
"My Dear Doctor> — We all deplored your absence but the 
cause was well understood. 



THE BALTIMORE BAPTIST 323 

"I wanted to see you and talk over my incumbency, or the 
length of it. You know what you said to me at Memphis, I 
am not greedy. Sometime, or other, I want to confer with you 
about it and was specially anxious to have you for a room mate 
at the Florence that we might talk the stars out about a thous- 
and things. 

"Your old friend Pritchard was there, and bright and cheery 
as ever. In a good crowd, I told that when you and he were 
crossing the Alps and had to spend the night on its glorious 
summits you missed him and when you came to look him up, 
found that he had rigged up a guide and his dog and gone 
coon hunting. 

" Acting on your admirable suggestion (a relief to me) I 
topped D up and he replied [to the address of wel- 
come]. I'll say he did it nobly. 

"Faithfully and Affectionately 

"Jon' Haralson." 

He was still writing for the Baltimore Baptist, and as an 
example of the sunlight which his newspaper jottings often 
put into other lives may be mentioned the case of a minister 
who had recently come from another state to the pastorate of 
the First church in one of the Virginia cities. Dr. Hatcher 
wrote an item about his visit in the home of the new pastor and 
received a letter from him saying: "This morning, we opened 
the mail together. There were sad letters and glad letters 

from the Virginia side and from the side, but nothing 

did her [his wife] more good, or touched our hearts, kindled 
our gratitude and awakened our appreciation more than the 
warm and gracious words from your pen in the Baltimore 
Baptist. It has proved a rare exhilarant and tonic to Mrs. 

, to say nothing of its effect upon the rest of us. I 

feel that the Association owes you a vote of thanks 

and I know I do. And Mrs. would have me write 

you at once how we feel about it and how deeply grateful she 
is to you for your delicate words about the home and the hos- 
tess." 

His Summer was spent in his usual way, — attending As- 
sociations, holding revival meetings, lecturing, dedicating 



324 YOUNG PREACHERS 

churches and doing other such religious work. At the 
Potomac Association" said the Herald "Dr. Hatcher was in 
fine feather. Indeed, he was never happier and his words 
went straight to the mark. Tears and laughter; laughter 
and tears. The Orphanage took a long stride onwards and 
upwards." 

He spent three Sundays supplying in Washington city. One 
day he met a young man who told him he was on his way to 
Richmond College, and to whom he said; "When you get to 
Richmond I want to help you to be happy." 

"On the next Sunday" writes the young man "I united with 
his church in Richmond. Many a good word of cheer he spoke 
to me during my College days, — even offering financial aid 
if I should need it." He was constantly speaking kind words 
to the young men as he met them upon the highway, — especially 
to young preachers. 

Dr. Andrew Broadus, Jr., writes: 

"No man outside of my own family has so influenced my 
life for good and I feel sure that more preachers can say that 
of him than of any other Baptist preacher who has lived in 
Virginia." 

Says Rev. J. L. Rosser: 

"Were each of those whom he has helped on the way to bring 
but a single flower Jiis resting place would become a mountain 
of bloom." 

"Richmond, Va., Oct. 4th, 1891. 

"My Dear E, — It is now 20 minutes to eight and as Powell 
of Mexico (who came to bring some Mexican boys to College) 
is to preach for me tonight I will begin my letter now. 

"After church. Had a large but not a crowded audience 
for Powell. He got $180 and seemed well satisfied." 

"I see much in my church to distress me. I am at a dark 
place in my work and see that I have got to be more with the 
Lord. A pastor can do nothing that is worth doing without 
getting Divine help at every point." 



A STOP-OVER AT BURKEVILLE 325 

"Monday, 11 o'clock. Dr. Whitfield goes today up to Beth- 
lehem to help Williams. Ah; can they have such sweet days 
as we had there. I hope they may." 

On Oct. 11th, he writes me, — "I am concerned about your 
editorial work. Remember that a wise man puts as much work 
on others as he can.". . . He stopped over at Burkeville, 
where his daughter, Kate, was teaching school at the Institute. 
He writes, "She is the queen of the grove — everybody says 
that she is the princess squaw of the wig-wam and she is as 
happy as a morning lark." 

Regarding my purchase of clothing, he writes. "I suggest 
that you be slow in buying and buy only what is first class." 



CHAPTER XXVII 

1891—1892 

ENTERING NEW BUILDING. HUMILITY. BROKEN FRIENDSHIP. 
WAKE FOREST REVIVAL. CHESTERFIELD. HIS NEW BOY. 

Often, from this time on, would his letters contain sentences 
like the following: "I went to Salem Thurdsay night and got 
home to breakfast Saturday morning. Things look well at 
Salem and the Orphanage has a golden dawn on its sky." 
These all-night trips, in behalf of his beloved Orphanage, made 
heavy drains upon his strength. "Not only was Dr. Hatcher 
a great factor in the maintenance of the Orphanage" said one 
of the Trustees "but, at least on one occasion, he saved the 
day for the institution, when it was trembling in the balance." 
Such work was the joy of his life and he kept it up until 
his life reached its end. 

He found rich companionship in his two youngest daughters, 
Lill and Edith. He entered into their young lives and thus re- 
freshed his soul, as well as put much sunshine on their path- 
way. Edith was visiting in Burke ville, and he writes me : 

"Yesterday afternoon Lill and I took a ride to Manchester. 
Her companionship was most agreeable to me. As we came 
back I took her to Reugers and gave her a supper which she 
seemed to enjoy. 

"It looks now as if I may soon publish a book of Character 
Sermons. If the arrangement is made I will preach my sermons 
over in a series this Fall and Winter, have them taken down 
by a stenographer and publish them in the Spring." 

Unfortunately this was not done. 

The day drew near for his church to enter their splendid new 
building. "It is truly a thing of beauty and seems to excite 

326 




i 



: * i i* I 

A - *4f ■ 1 tA. : 

-I- "" ""' 






THE NEW GRACE STREET BAPTIST CHURCH 



THE NEW BUILDING 327 

universal praise" he writes and then adds "I hope to see great 
times when we get into the new house." 

"I came down town this morning" writes my mother 
"and stopped in [at the new building] for a few moments. Your 
father was showing Dr. W. D. Thomas through the building. 
He takes every one through whom he happens to meet, who 
might wish to see it." 

"My people are somewhat nervous and over-worked" he 
writes "and show a little fretfulness at times, but I am sur- 
prised at my own patience. It looks as if nothing frets me and 
this is a great comfort to me. The fact is, I am so much in 
earnest about things that I am not moved by the small agita- 
tions that mark some of my impulsive people." 

The new building was magnificient. They had not been able 
to complete the auditorium, but all the building except the 
auditorium was finished and the School room, with its side 
rooms opening into the larger room, furnished accommodation 
for 1000 and more. 

Nov, 29th was the day for entering their new structure, but 
they awoke that morning to find the city wrapped in a blinding 
tempest of snow. "I was not in the least disconcerted by the 
weather" he wrote. "It mattered not to me that it snowed. We 
had the house and I was happy over that. I could not let 
a temporary inconvenience make me unhappy." 

Now that the building strain, with its financial and material 
bothers was over, his next ambition was for a great spiritual 
revival for his church. "We had a glorious time today" he 
writes on the next Sunday, — "631 in the Sunday School cannot 
easily be beat. The congregation overflowed our chairs and 
had to be put into the adjacent rooms. 

"Oh, for the power of the Holy Ghost. I hope to see it before 
the winter ends. I never had such low views of my gifts and 
performances as I now have. I amount to next to nothing. 
My work seems to be very mean and my power over people 
is not so great as it was. But I am not depressed by these 



328 HUMILITY 

things. My mind is made up to do my best — if I have any 
best — and to trust in the Lord." 

One of his cardinal traits was his humility. I had almost 
pronounced it his chief virtue, because out of it grew some of 
his richest qualities. "I believe" says Ruskin "that the first 
test of a truly great man is his humility." Dr. Hatcher's humil- 
ity exercised a controlling influence over his intellectual 
forces. It was with him a mental, as well as a moral, attitude. 
Humility is not an abject self -depreciation, but a recognition 
of the difference between what we are and what we ought to 
be; — between what we know and what there is to be known. 
"As for me", says Socrates, "all I know is that I know nothing." 

His lips recoiled from boastful words. How often I heard him 
say "I'm such a fool" or "I've got no sense." Frequently as 
a boy I would be in public meetings where certain speakers 
would indulge in high laudations of him, — as if he was some- 
thing wonderful indeed — and when, after the meetings, I 
would expect to find him elated over the parade that had been 
made over him, I would get a little shock, as he would say, 
"Absurd! preposterous!" Even as a boy, he had a scorn for 
self display. The boy who in company sought to "show off" 
met his disapproval. He said that when he arrived at Richmond 
College for the first time he rode up from the depot in the same 
conveyance with another new student — besides his brother — 
and that he was startled at the bluster with which this new 
student gave orders to the driver and the pompous airs he 
assumed as he approached the College. His own feeling was 
one of trepidation, as he thought of how little he knew, and of 
how much knowledge the College before him stood for. 

He had a mortal horror of being knocked down. Christ's 
picture of the man jumping into the highest seat at the Feast and 
being ordered by the host to vacate and move to the lowest seat 
must have been taught to him in his early days. At any rate 
he shrank from self exaltation. 

One of the ruling ambitions of his life was to reach "the best" 
in every thing, and it was his struggle to reach "the best" 



HUMILITY 329 

that kept him ever in sight of his limitations. His fear of the 
fool killer on his arrival at College was no jocular pretense. 
He did not protest against kindly praise of himself that came 
to him from others. As a boy, he said he " yearned for appre- 
ciation" and it is not surprising that one who put himself so 
low, and gave his life so largely for the happiness of others, 
should have eagerly welcomed every token of appreciation 
and love from others. 

"I dare not use the word "success" in connection with any 
part of my life" he once said. "I am so vexed, even in the 
fairest recollections of my work, by my ever deepening sense 
of inadequacy and unfaithfulness that I am afraid to admit 
even to myself that I could safely speak of my success in any 
of. the graver undertakings of my life." 

Let it not be thought however that this humility became self 
debasement, or that it injured his self respect. He put him- 
self down but he did not permit others to assist him in the 
operation. When others attempted to retire him to the rear 
his sense of justice sprang into the arena. He had regard for 
his position as a minister and a pastor. On one occassion there 
was to be a marriage in Richmond in which he and a pastor 
from another city were to take part. The visiting pastor 
arranged the matrimonial programme and assigned him a very 
insignificant place on it which he felt that the conditions did 
not call for and he instantly imformed the visiting brother — 
with whom he was well acquainted — that he would not par- 
ticipate in the ceremony as arranged; he said that he was 
perfectly willing to bow himself out of the ceremony altogether 
but that if he took part it must be on a basis that would not 
put him at an insignificant place on the schedule. The brother 
knew too well the justice of the complaint and promptly read- 
justed the programme. 

He delighted in the "family reunions" at Christmas. On 
this Christmas, his large subscription to his church building 
fund caused him to threaten small home expenditures for 
the holiday season and he wrote me at Louisville : 



330 CHRISTMAS REUNION 

"We are preparing a royal welcome and short rations for the 
prodigals of the household. On the score of music, we will try 
to give full measure — perhaps we may dance a little, but the 
fatted calf is not expected to attend." 

After the joyful festivities of the "reunion" I returned 
to Louisville. He drove me to the depot and on Jan. 10th, 
he wrote: 

"I had a sorrowful heart when I parted from you on Friday 
night. As I got up Broad Street, I could see the train careering 
up the valley taking you away and I felt envious of its charge. 
Your visit was sunlight to me, and your going was a trial. 
I can but pray that our lots may be cast near each other in the 
coming years. 

"I have promised the girls an oyster supper at 10 1-2 to- 
morrow night." 

A week later he writes: 

"I spent last week in paying my debts and have few left. 
My debts and my money disappeared about the same time. 
Orie says I must tell you that I went out yesterday and bought 
a fine lot of table linen. We never had quite such a varied and 
elegant supply before. I still retain my ambition to have my 
home handsomely furnished provided things can be kept in 
good shape. 

"My present plan is to make an earnest pull to awaken 
deeper spiritual zeal in my church. I am appalled at the 
coldness of my church. It crushes me to the ground." 

In writing of a trip which he was planning to take he says: 

"The big valise is down and my shirts, collars, etc., are 
snugly packed. I am quite rich in new collars, cuffs and cravats. 
I have also ventured to get me a new plain suit. It smites 
my soul to buy these things but I am compelled to waste (as 
it looks to me) on such sordid things as clothes. Money seems 
worthy to be spent on nobler objects. I feel sorry for a dollar 
that has to be degraded from the high purpose to which it 
might be devoted, to the common-place business of buying 
cuffs, or socks, or cravats. But we must have some regard to 
decency and comfort. 



A STRIKING INCIDENT 331 

"This week has been chiefly great in its bad weather. Its 
most shining episode in my career has been the pulling of 
two of my most unaimiable and rickety teeth. 

"I am getting tides of letters about my going on the Herald. 
It was manifestly the wise thing for me to do. . . Try to 
have time to read my piece — "The Two Brooms." 

"I went to Manchester yesterday. . . and the very 
proximity to Chesterfield was balm to my spirit. . , Col. 
Peyton of the Rockbridge Alum Springs was at church yester- 
day and gave your mother and me a free ticket to the Springs 
next Summer. But I cannot stand the Springs it would ruin 
my constitution to spend a month at the Springs so long as 
I can work. 

"Work is sweet to me and rest is not— though it will be 
after awhile. My revival power seems to be small of late. I 
have an opinion of myself which grows steadily in smallness." 

Again he writes: 

"I have a little cousin to stay with me tonight. His name is 

Frank and his father is my first cousin. . . Life 

gets very sober to me. The death of Spurgeon struck me in a 
sensitive spot and put me to thinking. I must do my very best 
for the rest of my days. 

"Heaven bless you. I am glad that you were so much edified 
by your trip to Shelby ville. You surely have my passion for 
going. It will follow you all your days." 

His next letter to me calls up a striking incident in his life, 
which had several chapters. A few years before this time he 
and a party of ministers and laymen had taken a long, rough 
mountain ride to an Association. The trip was interpersed 
with outbursts of humor and fun on the part of Dr. Hatcher 

and others. In the party was Prof. an intimate and 

honored friend of Dr. Hatcher, with whom he had in former 
years many hours of happy fellowship. Prof. — dis- 
approved of the fun and humor of Dr. Hatcher and others in 
the party as being inconsistent with their dignity as ministers, 
and at some public gathering, he referred to Dr. Hatcher and 



332 A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP 

the others as "disgracing the cause of Christ by their 
levity." 

The words went like an arrow and cut Dr. Hatcher deeply. 
It broke the close relations that had bound them together. 
Soon after that I found myself one afternoon in the buggy 
with my father headed for the College. A friend of his and of 

Prof. had invited him out to the College for a game of 

croquet. He was happy in the prospect of the contest. On 
the croquet ground as we drove up were several gentlemen, — ■ 

among them Prof. , and my father seemed to detect 

immediately a plan to bring him and his old friend into each 
other's company in the game and thus the heal breach, — a 

plan of which Prof. also was undoubtedly ignorant. 

But my father took in the situation at a glance, and at once 
gathering up the reins, he turned the horse's head and drove 
on off the campus. I remember not what was said, but I got 
a strong impression that my father was in no mood for such a 
game with its reconciliatory attachments. He needed time; 
and time did its work, though the old friendship never re- 
turned and they never became equally as cordial as in former 
times, yet they often mingled in pleasant intercourse. It 
was at this time (February, 1892) — eight or ten years after the 
above incident occured — that he was holding a meeting in 
another city, not very far from which lived his old friend, to 
whom he referred in the following letter: 

" Saturday morning" 

"Prof. and his daugther have been over to the 

meeting. They both gave me much kind attention and seemed 

set on my going over to , but I do not see any prospect 

of going. I have not been there for years — never since Prof. 

and I had the unpleasant experience in where 

he charged that , and I disgraced the cause 

of Christ by our levity and inconsistency. I told him then that 
I freely forgave him for the wrong and would never harbor any 
unkind thoughts of him, but that I could never think of him 
as a friend nor exchange hospitable courtesies. We get along 



A BROKEN FRIENDSHIP 333 

together first rate and I would go to just to show my 

good will if I could, but I will not have time." 

It is good to know that, as the years passed, he and Prof, 
were thrown together in many pleasant experiences 



and co-operated on cordial terms in denominational work. 

While the old friendship had suffered a wound from which 
it could never entirely recover, yet they held each other in 
high respect and esteem and he was ever glad to put honor on 
his friend of other days, and when the end came it was Dr. 
Hatcher, who was chosen to deliver the address at his funeral. 
He gladly responded to the request and it was a lofty, almost 
imperial, tribute which he paid to his fine old friend of the 
former years. 

His friendships were among his most sacred treasures. 
Some of them maintained their freshness and sweetness to 
the end; some of them suffered shipwreck; some of them ended 
in tragedies. 

In speaking of one of his broken friendships, he said, If 
you cut a friendship open to see whether it is there you kill 
it." Some time after he made that remark one of his children 
became estranged from a dear friend and when the father said 
to the child that he hoped the friendly relations would con- 
tinue the child replied, "You know Papa, you said if you cut 
open a friendship to see whether it is there you kill it." He 
said no more. 

The latter part of February he began a revival in his church 
with Dr. W. L. Wright aiding him. 

"My own letters to you are conceived in a rush and born 
in a flutter" he wrote a week or two later . . . "I have 
never felt so much helped by a meeting in my life. I have 
waked up to find that my own life is fearfully weak and wrong 
and that my ministry amounts to next to nothing. My heart 
is set on doing better. . . I had a charming incident to 
brighten the day. Just as I came into my study this after- 
noon a youth nearly grown came and said that he was converted 
under my sermon yesterday morning. It was very comforting 



334 WAKE FOREST MEETINGS 

to me for I have had a depressing view of my ministerial 
weakness of late. Indeed I have been very weary of late. 
I cannot endure so much as in the past and you will have to 
begin to think of me as your old father after awhile. I have to 
spare my self far more than in my meridian days. But this 
is not so distressing to me, as you might think, — I mean my 
growing old." 

"I believe your father preached about the finest sermon 
last Sunday" wrote my mother on the 9th, "that I ever heard 
from him, from Rev. 2:17. To him that overcometh etc.' 
He treated the christian life as a succession of four battles — 
at the gate (conversion), at the Cross (self sacrifice), at the 
heart (self mastery) and at death." 

This was one of his greatest sermons. The subject was "The 
Four Battles" and he drew the picture of the overcoming life, — 
the life that was triumphant in its four supreme conflicts— and 
of the rewards which the text promised. 

He held a series of meetings at Wake Forest College 
which marked a new era in his life. During all his minis- 
try he had varied his work by holding revival meetings, 
usually in the country or in towns, — with occasional meetings 
in cities. Wake Forest was a College and it was destined to be 
the first in a series of Colleges at which he was to hold revival 
campaigns in the future. His evangelistic labors were to 
take an even wider circle and include large cities in other sec- 
tions than Virginia and the South, An invitation came to 
him a few weeks later from Rev. Frank Dixon to aid him in 
meetings in California. "I can recall no part of my career as 
a minister" he said in his later life "that has been more inter- 
esting or fruitful than what it it has been my privilege to do 
in Colleges and Universities". His Wake Forest meetings 
worked a religious revolution in the institution. "The College 
is turned upside down" he writes. "The exercisies are suspended 
in favor of the meeting and the students and citizens are out 
in great crowds." My mother writes "A letter from your 
father yesterday says that the meeting is a cyclone", and upon 
his return home he writes : 



WAKE FOREST 335 

"The joy of my life touched the zenith at Wake Forest. I 
never had such a meeting in my life. It was tremendous and 
you must put your imagination to work. Think of Bethlehem, 
multiplied by a sympathetic faculty, over 200 students, a 
village and a community all absorbed in the work. I staid 
until Saturday." 

Those who attended his meetings testified that there was 
in them a power not of this world. It looked for a few days as if 
the Wake Forest meetings would not move the students; 

"but" said he "when Mercy came she brought the very glory 
of heaven with her. . . Our greatest day was election 
day which was also our last day. . . A day like that seldom 
comes in any human life. christian reader share with us 
the gladness of having seen again the face of our risen Lord. 
Think of those hundreds of young people at this sensitive 
point in their destinies and pray for them." 

Let us not attempt to describe his raptures during such an 
experience. The fire kindled in his heart in the Wake Forest 
meetings must have burned in his sermons on the next Sunday 
in his own pulpit, for he writes regarding his morning sermon 
"I suppose I never preached a sermon that moved them more." 

He wrote me the latter part of May: 

"I come to my desk to write you what I suppose must be 
my last letter with the direction Southern Baptist Theological 
Seminary on it. How many letters I have written you while 
you have been a Seminarian, and how miserably poor and 
gossipy they have been. I would regret to be judged by them, 
either on their literary, or intellectual, or religious merits, and 
yet I must say that I find a sort of regret that I shall write 
no more letters to you with the Seminary stamp upon them. 
These weekly unbosomings of myself to you have had their 
pleasures." 

I had preached at one of the New York churches on the 
preceding Sunday and he wrote me on July 15th: 

"Good morning my lad! How does the sky look to you this 
morning? How did you stand the storm yesterday? Did you 
smash the family name, or did you eclipse your father's fame? 
Tell me quick. My Powhatan expedition was golden." 



336 THE TYPEWRITER 

August, 15th, while I was helping his life long friend, Rev. 
John R. Bagby, in revival meetings he writes me: 

"It fairly infuriates me to reflect on the happy days you and 
Bagby will have this week. Envy fills my soul. You have 
taken your father's place and here I am a wanderer among 
strangers. 

"But never mind. Next Saturday week, and I hope the Lord 
may bring our quartette together. Do not let Bagby flinch — 
or hesitate about the trip." 

"My Dear Eldridge: 

"I am now learning to write on the typewriter and I will 
pay you the compliment of my first letter to you. . . I am 
conscious that I can never be an expert at the business, my 
afflicted hand being the incurable barrier in the way. . . . 
Wednesday morning. . . I tell you it is a tremendous 
undertaking to visit all the homes in the Grace Street Church. 
Saturday morning. Ah, I know you will swell with envy 
when I relate my experiences for the last few days. Thursday 
afternoon, I went up to Hallsboro [in Chesterfield] to see the 
sick folks. . . Brother Bob Winfree met me there and 
after we had finished our visit he took me behind his fine nag 
and we swept down the road to his house. There we spent the 
night, Mrs W. gave us a delicious supper. A cheerful fire 
glowed in the grate. Bob and I had it all our own way. We 
made a sermon on the "Power of Woman's Faith", as seen 
in the case of Rahab. Bob thinks with quickness and vigor. 
His acquaintance with the Word of God is remarkable. . . . 
Friday morning we spent in study up to noon, and then we 
pitched a game of quoits. Bob's defeat was complete and 
disgraceful. We had six tilts and he never won a game. He 
was terribly humiliated. He said that if he could get some 
horse shoes he would blot me off the face of the earth. 

"We learned that the quarterly church meeting at Bethlehem 
was in session. We resolved to give Brer Williams [the pastor] 
a surprise and so away we careered down the turn-pike to dear 
old Bethlehem. When we reached the scene, the men were 
holding a conclave in the house and the ladies were having 
a missionary meeting in the yard. Pretty soon he heard of our 
presence and came out after us. We went in and heard some 
of the discussions and they were quite interesting. The fin- 
ancial report was really encouraging. It showed that the 



CORRESPONDENCE 337 

people were paying up very well. It was hinted that somebody 
had gone to pieces on his temperance pledge, but no name was 
given. 

"In response to Brer Williams' invitation I spoke, my topic 
being the Orphanage. They were quite cordial and generous. 

"After the meeting Bob and I rode by John Waddlington's 
and spent an hour or two. There Bob found some horse shoes 
and we had another pitching tilt. Six games were played and 
once more Bob was crushed. He won two and lost four. His 
losses for the day were ten out of twelve. I yelled, shouted 
and hurrahed over the victory as much as I chose. Bob was 
interestingly blue over the result. I spent the night with him 
and arrived home this morning by the Bon Air train. 

"Monday morning. Here I am in my cosy study once more. 
It is a sort of Paradise to me. Here I lock the world out and 
have the luxury of unruffled repose. Often I retreat into this 
hiding place feeling that my soul and my body alike need its 
quiet rest. Not that I can afford to spend many of my moments 
here in idleness. But even work in this lovely place is restful 
to me. 

"Miss Minnie S is at present with us as a guest of 

Kate's. She is really a superior woman. Tom S was her 

devoted slave all day yesterday. She takes my jokes con- 
cerning him quite aimiably . I have named him "The Suppliant" . 
Of course she affects not to have the least idea as to what I am 
talking about. Yours. W. E. H." 

Tom proved the victor. 

"Richmond, Va., October 20th, 1892. 

"My Dear Eldridge, — Tomorrow there is to be a mass- 
meeting at Dr. Hoge's church. . . My address will be 
short and unpretentious but I hope to put some sense in it. 

"Tuesday afternoon, Thornhill and myself took a ride to 
Bon Air. How sacred to me seem the very roads, trees, streams 
of old Chesterfield. Whenever I get weary, lonesome, or sick, 
my thoughts turn tenderly to her sacred hills. 

"Friday morning. I now write all my letters on my instru- 
ment. I am a little slow but I enjoy the performance with 
boyish pride 

"Saturday night. I worked hard this morning and resolved 
to take my overtaxed brain to the country. I picked up Dr. 
Whitfield, rolled him in the buggy and struck for the sacred 
hills. We went out to Branch's church and called on brother 
Bagby. 



338 HIS NEW BOY 

"Monday morning. Yesterday. . . floods of strangers 
were at our church in the morning. The crowd was really 
inspiring. . . At night my crowd was magnificent. The 
folks at home are well except your mother who has a cold. 
Edith is not much better, but her energy is wonderful. Nothing 
can discourage her. She studies with extraordinary persever- 
ance. Lizzie marched off to the Institute this morning with 
your traveling cap on. She presented quite a jaunty air and 
had a bright and glowing face. I thought that she looked 
uncommonly well. Orie had a young medical beau last night." 

A new boy was dropped into his life at this time in a curious 
and memorable way. It was the same old story of his heart 
opening towards a motherless boy. During the preceding 
Summer he had met a little orphan lad in the country by the 
name of Coleman M , who was living with his step- 
mother. A short while before this, a gentleman and his wife, 
had asked Dr. Hatcher to keep on the lookout for a boy whom 
they might adopt and educate. "Coleman is the boy" said 
Dr. Hatcher to himself ;"he is a promising looking lad and ought 
to be educated". The boy's step-mother agreed to the ar- 
rangement and it was decided that Coleman should be sent 
to the above mentioned gentleman and his wife. In a few 
days, however, the tidings came that the wife had died and 
thus the home was closed against Coleman. 

This put another puzzle before Dr. Hatcher. It thrust 
upon him the question as to what should be done with the 
little Caroline orphan. "Somebody must be found who will 
take him" he said to himself, but no one appeared on the 
horizon. "Jennie" he said to his wife one night "suppose 
we take the boy into our home and educate him and try to make 
a man of him." She agreed and a few days later when the 
train from the North stopped at the Elba station, at his back 
gate, one morning Dr. Hatcher was at the depot to meet 
Coleman with his earthly belongings in his little suit case, 
and in a few moments the family, who were on tip toe of ex- 
pectation to see the new boy, were greeting him around the 
breakfast table. Later that day my father wrote me: 

% 



HIS NEW BOY 339 

"I cannot remember whether, or not, I wrote you in regard 
to a boy that I was interested in. He is an orphan and is from 
the county of Caroline. After trying various men to persuade 
them to take him I concluded to assume the charge of him 
and see if I could give him an education. I wrote for him to 
come down and he arrived this morning for breakfast. He is 

12 years old and his name is M . I have made an 

engagement with Miss Jennie Rudd to take him and teach him. 
She is very kind and will not charge him any tuition. Brother 
Rudd with his usual generosity offers to board him for the 
small sum of $8 per month. I will take him up there, or send 
him in a few days. Most likely I will go myself. I have not been 
up there since I was with you at Skinquarter in the meeting 
three years ago and am rather anxious to see them. I have in 
hand some money which I feel at liberty to use for the educa- 
cation of the fellow. How much I hope that he may fulfill my 
highest expectations." 

Already he was drawing bright pictures of the boy's future. 
Like a sculptor he was dreaming of the figure which lie hoped 
to fashion out of the rude block that he had brought from the 
country hills. Already he could, in imagination, see Coleman 
going through school and College in preparation for a noble 
manhood. 

" James Coleman ," writes my mother, "a little 

orphan boy that your father met up with this past Summer, 
has arrived and is being transmogrified to such an extent (by 
means of certain monies given your father for such boys) that 
he is looking quite genteel and sprightly. Your father's fond- 
ness and great love for boys is a constant wonder to me. He 
is never so happy as when one is around about him. Possibly 
one reason why Providence took away from him his two baby 
boys was that he might care for other boys who have no parents 
worthy, or able to care for them. Coleman is a genteel, bright 
looking fellow — shows rather good training. I hope the money 
may come to have him trained and properly educated." 

The taking of this boy under his fatherly wing was no 
trifling event in the life of Dr. Hatcher. While he did not 
adopt Coleman as his own son, yet he took him into his heart, 
with the determination to do his very best for him. It put 



340 LETTER TO COLEMAN 

a new star of hope in his own sky and no potter ever labored 
upon his shapeless clay with a more ardent devotion than did 
Dr. Hatcher upon the tender lad that Providence seemed to 
have placed in his hands. He carried Coleman up to Miss 
Jennie Rudd's school in Chesterfield, and on his busy Monday 
morning after his return, he writes him the following tender, 
characteristic letter: 

"Richmond, Va., Nov. 7th, 1892. 

"My Dear Coleman, — It made me sad to leave you on 
Saturday. As I took my parting glance at you through the 
car window, I asked the Lord to be your friend and to shield 
you from every danger and evil. Remember that I will pray 
for you every day. I hope you will often pray for me. 

"I expect fine reports from you in your school. I know that 
you begin behind the rest and I will not expect too much at 
the start. All that I ask is that you be a studious boy and do 
your best. 

"Do not be afraid to trust me. I wish you to come to me 
as to a father. If you get in trouble always tell me about it. 
If you feel that you have done a wrong thing I would not have 
you conceal it from me for anything. Be free to tell me all 
of your boyish trials. If you want anything, be free to come 
to me about it. I may not always give you what you ask 
for; I may not think it best for you, or I may not feel able to 
give it. I would act, in the case, as a father ought to act. 

"I send you, by express, your books. I also send some mater- 
ial to make straps for your trunk. You need strapping on the 
top of the trunk to keep it from falling backwards, and also 
straps to the tray to enable you to lift it out. Ask Mr. Rudd, 
or Wortley, to fix it for you. 

"I send you a Bible with the other books. This is for your 
regular use. You must save your other Bible in memory of 
your father. In a short time I will send you a Sunday overcoat. 

"This is Monday morning and I am very busy. Give my 
love to the boys. Dont forget to write to me. 

"Your True Friend, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

He had been appointed to preach the sermon before the 
Southern Baptist Convention in May and the text upon which 
he preached was the words "Experience worketh hope". He 
preached upon the text first to his^own people. 



BETHEL'S NEW BUILDING 341 

"Your father," writes my mother, "has gone to the delectable 
plains of Chesterfield, — he said 'on a lark.' Well, he needed 
a change and shake up. I reckon the railroad hands all know 
him." 



The "lark" included a visit in the interest of the Bethel 
church, of which his friend "Robert" was pastor. He urged 
them not to repair, but to rebuild, and he had some pleasant 
little tussles with the committee in several later visits. He 
said to his friend, Mr. W. W. Baker, one of the prominent mem- 
bers of the church, and one of his much loved friends; "Baker; 
Bethel is going to have a new church and you can be captain 
of the train, or you can buck and get run over." 

On the next Sunday Mr. Baker gave his vote for the new 
building and his pledge for $750. The building campaign 
was begun and Mr. Baker says that one day, soon after that, 
while the workmen were tearing down the building Dr. Hatcher 
drove up on the church grounds. The walls were down almost 
to the ground, and Dr. Hatcher stood up in his buggy, sur- 
veyed the scene, and, with a happy smile directed at him and 
the others, he shouted, "Bless the Lord; Babylon has fallen!" 
In a few months the Bethel saints were worshipping in their 
handsome, new, brick structure. 

To Coleman he writes on Dec. 5th, "It would cut me ter- 
ribly to find that you did not get your lessons well. You are 
to be my bright student boy in the days to come. ... I 
am very anxious for you to be learning to speak in public. . . 
I will send you a little speech which I want you to have ready 
by the time I come up to see you." 

He writes me: 

"Yesterday was not a big day with me. There were 
some jolts and pull-backs in my work. Hence I claim the 
right to be grum and moody this morning." There was no 
serious trouble in his church but as there is no household so 
well desciplined that jars and misunderstandings never occur 
so we need not be surprised if in the best of churches human 



342 LETTER TO COLEMAN 

nature should sometimes make an unseemly exhibition of 
herself. My mother in the following letter hints at those same 
" jolts and pull-backs." 

"Last evening your father and I attended a very swell "At 
Home" given by Dr. Kerr's church [Presbyterian], or rather 
by the young men. Your father was invited to make an 
address. I was specially glad that your father did it well. 
Things have been going rather against him lately and he had 
had much to discourage him. But he is such a Roman that 
he can mount above things that keep others down. I some- 
times think that he is not appreciated by his people. He so 
leads them on to attempt great things that he forgets to in- 
gratiate himself into their affections as other pastors do. His 
eye is fixed on others and the future good of the cause and in 
doing so has to sacrifice his own well being and sometimes his 
popularity. He is off today to Sussex for a lecture on tomorrow." 



He writes to his little country lad: 



"Richmond, Va., Dec. 16th, 1892. 

"My Dear Coleman, — I am anxious for you to present Miss 
Jennie with a suitable Christmas present. If I can, I will send 
you something to give her. Do not tell her about it. When you 
give it to her I want you to write her a nice note, wrap it up 
in the paper with the present and hand it to her. In the note 
you must thank her for all her kindnesses to you. Be sure not 
to say anything to anybody about the present until you have 
given it. 

"I am glad to tell you that I have a new everyday suit for 
you. These I will send you before very long and also the 
overshoes. The clothes will be for your school suit. You must 
keep the old suit to wear when you have any rough work to do. 

"When you write me, next please answer these questions. 
Do you ever clean your teeth and if 'so how often? Do you 
change your shirt bodies and stockings twice a week as I told 
you to do? How often do you wash your feet and neck? 
How do you usually spend your Sunday afternoons? Have 
you ever been kept in after school and, if so, how often and for 
what reason? Do you ever see Mr. Williams [the pastor] and 
does he ever talk to you? Now take your time and give me 
a good answer to these questions. 



PASTORAL COMPETITION 343 

"God bless you my precious boy. I do not want you to think 
of me as asking too much of you. That I am not going to do. But 
I am anxious to make a bright boy out of you and of course 
this will require a lot of hard work on your part. But I will 
never give you more than you can do. Think of me often and 
remember that I often pray for you. 

"Your devoted Friend, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

I might mention at this point that he delivered an address 
before the North Carolina Baptist State Convention, — and 
yet why mention this? The reader must understand — if 
indeed he has not long ago surmised it — that this narrative 
does not seek to account for all the days of his overflowing 
life. In fact we have not the record of the uncountable meetings 
which he held, the addresses and lectures which he delivered, 
the sermons which he preached, the churches dedicated, the 
denominational conferences and conventions attended, the 
trips taken and his other manifold labors. It is only a very few 
of his public services that are chronicled in these pages, — 
chiefly those that tend to reveal what manner of man he was. 

"I get no news from Chesterfield" he writes. "Hurry up 
and come on and let us sweep up the hallowed heights once 
more. It would be golden days, brought back, to break in 
upon the Lybargers again. We are preparing for a scanty 
Christmas. The fact is that we are a house of dyspeptics and 
the less we eat the better for our interiors. But, at a venture, 
I got a roaring big ham this afternoon." 

He stated that there were many new Baptists moving into 
the city who liked to be coaxed into some church and that he 
hated the competition between the pastors in securing these 
strangers, and then added "It is not healthy. But of course 
I must put in my work and get my share of the spoils." j 

He writes again: 

"608 W. Grace St., is somewhat after the order of a de- 
serted banquet hall. Four girls and the smouldering remains of 
myself constitute our present actual assets. 



344 PERSONAL ITEMS 

"I think that my Grippe has finally relaxed its enfeebling 
hold upon me and I feel that Richard is himself again, — which 
being interpreted means that Brer Hatcher is very much 
better." 

He delivered, at this time, a memorial address on Dr. J. L. 
Burrows at the First Church and, among other things, said, 
"More than once I said to Dr. Burrows that I would never 
be able to tell him how much I loved him, but that, at his 
funeral, I would tell others." 

On Jan 8th, he writes me ; "I am afraid I am too fond of frolick- 
ing and that I may lead you into my bad habits. You must not 
copy my weakest points but look out for the better ones, — 
provided you can find any of the latter sort. 

"We had nobody at home to dinner with us. We had roast 
chickens but they were venerable and tough. I was not in 
festive mood, and did not linger for the dessert." 

Again he writes: "Tonight we had stewed rabbit, light rolls, 
batter cakes until you could not rest and several other things, 
flung in for filling up. We had quite a festive time at the 
table. Kate is "wrastling" with the question of her visit to 
you. I am leaving her to her own choosing in the case. 

"Lill is studying too hard. It hurts me to see her tug so 
constantly and it seems to make her rather nervous and irri- 
table. But I think she will make a mark in the world some 
of these days. Edith has been unusually bright for several 
weeks but I do not think she is quite well just now. I have 
tried to keep her from school this terrible weather but she 
insists on going. 

"Today is the first that Coleman has been out, since he was 
taken with chicken pox. He has spent most of the day with 
me at the study. He is a simple hearted, trustful creature 
and clings to me in a really trustful manner. Tonight Tom 
is going up to spend the night with him and I believe that the 
children are fixing for a small display of Charades. I have 
bought a small supply of candy and ginger snaps for the oc- 
casion. 

"Monday. It is now nearly 4 P. M. After an interesting 
time at the Conference I took Bob Winfree, Pitt and Landrum 
and also my little Coleman to lunch at Reuger's. It was really 
a captivating experience. I think the dinner was good and 
the chat was entertaining in the highest degree. From that 



THE HANCOCK MEMORIAL 345 

place, I hurried back to my study to finish this letter. The 
children had a roaring time Friday night with their charades." 

In this letter he tells of another service which he was seeking 
to render his beloved " Chesterfield". It was the erection of a 
monument, by the Chesterfield people, in honor of their "be- 
loved physician", that he was seeking to promote, and in such 
a movement they delighted to co-operate. Concerning the 
monument he writes: 

"Yesterday (Thursday) was the day set for the memorial 
services in honor of Dr. Hancock. We had a royal meeting. 
Thornhill presided and Bob and I made speeches. We also 
organized a Memorial Association for the purpose of building 
a monument to the memory of the 'beloved physician'. We 
raised nearly two hundred dollars on the spot and could have 
gotten a much larger sum if we had pressed the matter." 



CHAPTER XXVIII 
1893—1894 

PLAYING QUOITS. "UNCLE DAVID." THE YOUNG PEOPLE. SERMON 

BEFORE SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION. DEDICATION OF 

THE NEW GRACE STREET CHURCH BUILDING. 

MOODY MEETINGS. 

His love for games, as he grew older, did not abate, but 
changed from Croquet to Quoits. He would play with the 
Baptist pastors at their picnics at Forest Hill Park. But his 
favorite battle field was the front lawn at his friend Robert 
Winfree's in Chesterfield. Here they would have their con- 
tests, into which he threw himself with boyish enthusiasm. In 
the games he would plan, threaten, shout, study his own mis- 
takes, keenly watch his antagonist, groan over his defeats, 
and make the welkin ring over his victories. After such con- 
flicts he and Robert would come into the house all aglow with 
the exhilarations of the game and would turn with eager relish 
to the sermon preparation for next Sunday. Oft-times he and 
Robert would discuss the text from which he expected to 
preach. Sometimes he would give his entire visit to the social 
pleasures and recreations and return to Richmond "made over" 
physically and mentally. On the 20th, he writes, regarding 
one of these encounters on the Quoits' grounds. 

"Friday I skipped away (just by way of variety you know) 
to the snow-capped heights of Midlothian. It was a secret 
bargain between the incorrigible Bob and myself that I would 
come and when I dismounted from the one o'clock train there 
he was in his buggy up the road in eager waiting for me. It 
took his fleet nag but a few minutes to bring us to his door. 

346 



HELPING OTHERS 347 

A fire glowed in his grate and the ground was in sublime trim 
for quoits. You may be sure we tussled long and hard. The 
train left me on Saturday morning and we had a full pull until 
the afternoon train. Bob is improving but he is not yet quite able 
to cope with your humble "f ardour". At the end we had played 
twenty five games with the result, — Bob 7, and I 18. But 
he was well up in other respects. He got 346 in all and I got 
487. It was a great relief to me and did me much good. 

"He is begging me to meet him at Hallsboro next Thursday 
and go to Skinquarter with him, but I hardly think that I can 
go." 

He draws two pictures of his efforts to help other people. 
He first mentions a young pastor, about whom he thus writes: 

"He has a big trouble on hand with the boss spirit in his 
church. Landrum and myself have been piloting him over the 
stormy seas and actually got him to land, but in the very 
moment he put foot on the shore, he turned a somer-sault 
and tumbled headlong again into the billowy deep. It was a 
really curious and distressing mistake and I will tell you about 
it when we meet. He will have to resign." 

The other was the case of a gentleman who was the head of 
one of the educational institutions of the city, in whose school 
had occurred a commotion that threated to disrupt the school. 
The gentleman anxiously sought his counsel and he writes me 
about it, saying that the brother was unable to quiet the mad- 
dened students, and his letter thus continues : 

"It is ticklish business and he is in danger of a first class 
stampede. I am trying to help him guide his trembling bark 
but he forgets what I tell him and has to come back again to 
to hear it over. He has an honest, but not a judicial mind. 
He was at church tonight (Sunday) and gave me a big sitting 
before he let me off. Everybody is gone and I am tugging 
at this dry and pointless letter. As I am now approaching the 
bottom of the page I will bid you good night and will try to see 
you in the morning." 

His attitude towards his old sexton, David Parsons, showed 
his ability to detect worth in all classes of people. "Uncle 



348 "UNCLE DAVID" 

David" had in him some fine traits and Dr. Hatcher and he 
were friends; they admired each other and as for David he 
knew well his place and would have walked many a weary mile 
in his service for Dr. Hatcher. He was tall and dignified and 
had acted as butler in the home of Dr. Jeter for many years. 
On special occasions in the pastor's home, — such as New Years' 
Receptions to the church, or "Breakfasts" or "Dinings' to 
preachers — uncle David would be mustered into service 
and would be in his element, as with respectful dignity, he 
would move around the table. 

The old man had one mournful fault, his indulgence in 
whiskey. It brought him sometimes to shameful collapses, 
sorely grieved Dr. Hatcher and, yet, always found the pastor 
on his side when he was attacked by any of the pugilistic mem- 
bers, who whiled away some of their idle moments by taking 
a fling at the sexton. One Wednesday evening Dr. Hatcher 
reached the church about eighteen minutes before the time 
for the prayer meeting service and found the church shrouded 
in darkness. He called out "David; David!" and a sound on 
the front bench told him, in a flash, that the old sexton was 
"down again". Most unceremoniously did the pastor hustle 
the old man out of the dark room into the coal room; where he 
rolled himself into a knot. The pastor then fit the lamps, 
distributed the hymn books and had everything in order by 
the time the people began to assemble for the meeting. 

In a day, or so, David arrived on the scene and the erectness 
of his form, the elasticity of his step and the flash in his eye 
showed plainly that he had taken himself through a reformatory 
course and, with a scorn for his recent wickedness, had started 
himself upon a career of immaculate behavior for the rest of 
his days. He had served the church long and well. He 
had lost his wife and at this time had become a great sufferer 
from an absess. At first, the church was sympathetic towards 
him, but he was slow in recovering and the church building 
was suffering neglect from his absence. Dr. Hatcher writes: 



A DINNER PARTY 349 

"David, our venerable sexton, is yet laid up for repairs and, I 
much fear, with no good chance of being up soon. His substitutes 
are not efficient and give us considerable trouble. The Com- 
mittee on Premises are getting restless and I fear that they will 
feel it necessary to get another man. It would be the removal 
of a way-mark from my road for old Dave to be put off. It 
would almost be like a notice to me to be packing my traps." 

After the old man's death he paid him in the public print, a 
high and affectionate tribute. 

"March, 25th, 1893. 

"My Dear Eldridge, — Tuesday after dark. We had a whop- 
ping big dinner at our house today. The guests were many 
and honorable. Let me name the names thereof, — (the men 
all ministers) — : Bagby of Farmville, Bagby of Suffolk, Bur- 
rows of Georgia, Barker and wife of Petersburg, Pritchard of 
North Carolina, Miss Kate Fife of Charlottesville, Ellis of 
your town [Baltimore] and our own domestic gang, which, 
when put together, made a big pile. After dinner we had a 
deluge of callers, among them Dr. Woodfin of Hampton. I 
forgot to name the name of Brer Wharton among the guests 
at our dinner. 

"By noon it cleared and Dr. Ellis and I put out for Manches- 
ter, where we had a hardly contested fight on the Quoits Field 
and I got the best in the struggle by only one game. He beat 
me last Saturday and so we are now equal. 

"The Dispatch of today announces that you have been called 
to the First church at Norfolk. It has of course put everybody 
to talking and they all seem to imagine that I can tell at once 
what you will do in the case. You will have to settle that for 
yourself. I think that the feeling, is in favor of your going.. 
I hope that you may not err in making up your mind." 

One of the most interesting sights in his church services 
on Sunday was the young people. They were present in throngs 
and took happy part in the exercises. In a letter to me, des- 
scribing his "Sunday", he says "Today has been heaven itself 
at our church. . . There must have been six hundred at 
the Communion season. . . I am on the joyful hills," 
To this, he adds: "I have never had my boys behave quite 
so sweetly as they do now. I made a few of them sing a piece 



350 YOUNG PEOPLE AT CHURCH 

at the service tonight. They did it well and the people were 
much interested." The hymns for each service were printed 
on paper slips which were distributed by the boys before the 
exercises began, and gathered up afterwards. His larger boys 
would take up the offerings at the evening service and, in many 
ways, the youths of his congregation were linked in the church 
programme. The boys were generally crowded together on the 
front benches, in the "Amen Corners" and, — in times of an 
overflow, — they were strung along the edges of the pulpit 
platform. 

"It used to be said that other churches decorated their pul- 
pits with flowers," he writes "but that I made bold to decorate 
mine with boys." 

It was a happy picture they presented with their beaming 
faces. It put everybody in a bouyant frame to see the boys and 
it gave a reality and spontaneity to the service. 

"Our choir is in chaos still" he writes on Nov. 6th "B 



P played the organ yesterday [at the Sunday service] 

and a shivering few took the platform to steer the praises of the 
day. I marched up a few of my boys and made them sing a 
couple of choral pieces which went quite well." 

Referring, at a later time, to the manner in which the young 
are treated in many churches, he writes: 

"They are not treated as worshippers. They are often pushed 
out and back for the accommodation of the older people until 
they are grouped far from the pulpit. Sometimes they are 
absolutely hustled out of the house, iu case of crowds, as if 
they were of no importance and had no rights nor duties and 
as if it was the royal proof of gallantry to give seats to late 
coming women, even though it involved the making heathen 
of the children. 

"They are given no recognition, have no place they can 
call their own, no hymn books are furnished them, nothing 
done to interest them in the worship and if they, for the lack 
of something else to do, whisper, or prank, or scuffle with each 
other, they are dealt with as offenders, branded as outlaws 



CHILDREN AS WORSHIPPERS 351 

and threatened with punishment at home, or at the bar of the 
law and even at the bar of God. Oh, Christian men the worst 
heathen on the earth could not treat their children with more 
barbarous cruelty. 

"It is enough to fill us with anguish to think of the uncounted 
thousands of our boys, and our girls as well, who have been 
alienated from the church and from religion forever by this 
stern and unsympathetic treatment." 

His Sunday services, were joyous and inspiring and one 
explanation of it was the throng of children that crowded 
about the front. 

"But are children capable of worship?" was a question that 
was once asked him and his reply was as follows: 

"I do not raise the issue as to the capacity of children for 
worship. Indeed we must readily admit that there are heights 
and depths of worship which children may not reach. . . . 
Even the most cultivated and experienced of worshippers 
are often oppressed with the insufficiency of their worship and 
we need not be startled if the young stumble and blunder when 
they attempt to worship. 

"But many of these children are not converted" cries the 
objector "and if not converted how can they engage in wor- 
ship?" 

In reply he continues: 

"I cannot invade the domain of God's secret dealings with 
souls. That is out of sight and I must not tug at the curtain 
to peep through. . . It looks vulgar and impertinent for 
men to be blustering around when children are seeking to 
worship to ask whether they have been converted. 

"For my life I cannot tell whether the children that thronged 
around Jesus that day in the Temple were converted or not. 
That question was not started by Christ, though there were 
some fearfully sour and querulous people present, who were 
openly suspicious of the children, saw only disorder in their 
conduct and, besought Jesus that he would call up the noisy 
set, box their ears and force them to shut up their rattling 
little throats. Indeed, I cannot dare to describe the measure 
of the light which these children had. . . They seemed 
to have only one sentence to say; it was the sum total of their 



352 HIS SERMON BEFORE THE CONVENTION 

formula of worship. They leaped and ran and surged about 
the Lord and cried with all the power of their little voices, 
'Hosanna to the Son of David'. . . It is enough for me that 
Jesus Christ openly and, in the face of criticism, accepted the 
tribute of worship which the little children brought him in the 
temple, and, in the light of that fact, I believe in, and feel it 
my solemn and glorious privilege to advocate, on all occasions, 
our duty to teach the children to join heartily in the worship 
of God." 

The Convention sermon, which he was to preach in May, put 
him on his mettle, and it would be impossible to tell the number 
of hours which he spent during these weeks on its preparation. 
"It begins to open finely before me" he writes. "This week I am 
going to take it into the brush and make it shine, if I can. I 
will go up to Bob's and spend most of the week, coming down 
for my Wednesday night prayer meeting." Again he writes : 

"I have written my sermon this week, but propose to write 
it again by Wednesday night and then lip out Thursday and 
get it in my noddle by Saturday. Then I hope to have ease of 
mind. It is not good, but I hope the added blessing of the 
Lord will make it good." 

In a letter telling of a visit to Bethlehem, he says: 

"I went to get the folks to send Williams [the pastor] to the 
Convention. It went through with a little pushing. He will 
go. There were not many present." 

After telling of his ups and downs in his campaign to raise 
$12,000 for finishing his church building, he adds: "but I 
am forging ahead with banners prancing in the zephers. . . . 
I am possessing my soul in patience and not falling out with 
anybody." 

He preached his sermon at the Nashville Convention. The 
audience was vast and consisted of representative Baptist 
ministers and laymen from all the states of the South and, for 
him, it was a mountain-top experience. "It was, we judge, 
the best preaching of his life" says the Herald "and that is 



HIS FALL VISITATION 353 

high praise. The spiritual effect was remarkable. . ." His 
text was, "Experience worketh hope." 

The sermon began with the words "The experience of the 
text is high born; its mother is faith, its grandmother, tribu- 
lation and its father, the God of heaven.' ' 

Soon after his return to Richmond, he writes that his people 
were greatly cheering him about his sermons. He says "Even 
the taciturn and critical are full of kind words for me. But the 
scamps look as if it torments them if I get out of the corporate 
limits of the city. They catch me every time I cross the James." 

My mother writes: 

"I am afraid your father's reply to Dr. this week 

will provoke censure. I wish it had not happened. It will 
teach some folks they had better keep their tongue. No one can 
floor him. He was not born for that sort of business. His 
sword of repartee is trenchant and fatal. He is now preaching 
for old Mr. Bagby — comes home tomorrow." 

He heard that one of the members of the B church had 

begged everybody's pardon and brought on a revival. He 
writes that he wanted to go up to the meetings, saying. 
"The devil is on the run and I want to join in the pursuit." 

After a busy Summer he took up his Fall and Winter work 
with unusual bouyancy of spirit. After writing of the good 
understanding which he and his fine horse, "Bruce," had with 
one another he continues: 

"I am driving my visiting cart over hill and dale. My people 
never seem so innumerable as when I undertake to go to see 
them. I find a genuine joy in going around among them. 
(Here is the funeral). 

"(Later). I had a tiresome trip to the funeral. It was at 

A B stock farm fully a mile beyond the 

Buildings. . . The audience was composed mainly of 
horse men and it was an ill smelling gang. But I was glad to 
speak to them. 

"A matrimonial cyclone struck Richmond last week" he 
writes. ". . I did not share in the spoils of the upheaval 



354 BREAKING THE BUCKLE 

except to the extent of marrying Miss Annie McDowell at the 
end of the service. 

"Today, (Sunday), is gloom itself, with the storm and rain. 
. . . I loaded my guns for the Education Board, but I con- 
cluded to hold my fire on that until we have fairer skies. This 
required me to rush to the front some of my lighter homiletical 
artillery. I fired off a suddenly made sermon on seeking first 
the kingdom of God etc. My folks went quite wild over it. 
They asked me to repeat it." 

His ability to preach well a hastily prepared sermon was the 
reward of his hard practice in his early ministry. 

Coleman, his orphan lad, had sent him, at his request, a 
list of all his possessions, in the way of books, clothes, etc.. 
He read the letter, marking in it all the mistakes and, at the 
bottom, wrote: 

"8 mistakes 
Be careful also about 
your capital letters." 

He stepped across the line into 1894, little suspecting the 
bright days that awaited him. My mother writes on Jan. 14th : 

"By the way, your father broke the buckle of his cravat this 
[Sunday] morning, after he had begun his services and he had 
to take it off and preach without it. He said he would not 
attempt to fix it — but would lay it aside and he hoped some one 
would invent a better way of keeping cravats on or he would 
have to leave them off altogether, — or something to that effect. 
He was, as usual, equal to the occasion. A titter went around 
his congregation and he continued his sermon." 

His Sunday night letters describing his glorious Sunday ser- 
vices would fill a book in themselves. Week by week, he tells 
the story of overflowing congregations, and mountain-top 
experiences. To Coleman he writes on Jan., 15th: 

"I was sorry to learn that you were expecting an invasion 
of the mumps. That is the poorest sort of a thing for any 
youth to have and I wish you would escape it or rather I wish 
that you had had the miserable thing a long time ago. Where 



THE LONG SERMON 355 

have you been hiding all your life that you have never been 
picked up by those various diseases. You have not had your 
rights not even in the way of having diseases." 

When Coleman's report came it was marked "Golden Report" 
and he thus writes: 

" 'A Golden Report', you say. Well done my noble youth. 
That sets my heart to dancing with pride and delight. As 
for my little 'Scraggie' [one of his names for Coleman] I will 
bjr the help of the Lord, look after him and aid him to become 
a boy worth talking about. I wonder if he will not try to do 
the very best that he is capable of. Somehow, I think that he 
will. 

"I am glad that you took Mrs. Rudd out for a ride; that is 
right; be good to her. She is lovely, but not strong. Do every- 
thing you can to lighten her cares and smooth her path. She 
will love you and God will bless you for it. 

"Your Same Old Friend, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

He writes me of a minister who spoke for him on Sunday 
morning at Grace Street: 

"The congregation towered. It was an honor to the city, 
preached or rather, spoke and did it splendidly well, 



except (and this quite a gigantic exception) he spoke for a full 
hour and a quarter added. Say what you will, folks are averse 
to long services. I fear that it told on the collection. I hinted 
to him that he ought not to pass a second over an hour and to 
halt inside of that, but he had the stuff and could not persuade 
himself to cut any of it out. I am going to study my sermons 
more closely and trim them down to 30 minutes. Ordinarily 
that is enough and what goes after that is subtraction and not 
addition. At my Boys meeting I had 76 present and duly 
labeled. It was a sight. 

"But for the rainbow promise one might imagine from the 
look of the heavens this morning that there was going to be 
another Noachic (is that the spelling?) flood. But goo-by. 

"Ever True, W. E. Hatcher." 

Two events loomed on his path, — the coming of the great 
evangelist, D. L. Moody and the dedication of his completed 



356 DR. JOHN A BROADUS 

church building. For many months he and his people had been 
worshipping in their Sunday School room, but after a severe, 
financial campaign their magnificent new auditorium was 
finished. There was none like it in the state. He now stood at 
what was, up to that time, the highest point of his ministry. Dr. 
John A. Broadus was to preach the dedication sermon and all 
manner of other bright features were to form a part of the de- 
dicatory services. " We are trying to make it the most impressive 
occasion that Richmond has ever witnessed' ' he wrote. His 
love of thoroughness and of the artistic made him build up a 
programme for the dedication that was attractive in every 
detail. He not only trained certain ones who were to take 
special part but on the preceding Sunday, he rehearsed his 
entire congregation . "You ought to hear them chant the 
Lord's prayer," he writes. 

"Dr. Broadus delighted us very much", writes my mother; 
"by putting in his appearance on the balmy Saturday, just 
before dinner. Dr. Thomas (W. D.) and Harris were invited 
to dine with him, but the latter had company. We gave a 
course dinner and all pronounced it a success. Dr. Broadus was 
at his best and the small talk and the after-dinner talk was most 
delightful — reminiscences being endulged in to some extent 
and the jocund element playing its appropriate part, to say 
nothing of the inevitable pun. Dr. Broadus said he told his 
class that it was the height of politeness not to let on when you 
heard a joke the second time, etc." 

At the table that day Dr. Broadus spoke of one of the Hatcher 
children in very complimentary terms, referring to that child 
as being "gifted". 

"He then said with a twinkle" continues my mother " 'of 
course it could not be otherwise'. Your father and I thanked 
him and he looked towards me and facetiously said 'Oh, I 
meant you of course.' Your father was equal to the occasion, 
as he always is, and replied appropriately." 

But Sunday was the day of days, — the day on which they 
gathered in their beautiful new auditorium. He writes: 



THE DEDICATION 357 

"It exceeded our highest expectations both in the badness 
of the weather and the wonderful interest shown in the oc- 
casion. The ends of the earth were on hand and everything 
went gloriously." 

In writing of the praises of their building he says: 

"The es, s, etc., etc., went wild except when 

we handed the hat around. They were a little shy and non- 
committal then, though we did pick up an X from . 

But this is inter nos. 

"The fact is that my study is a gallery of beauty. You 
never saw the like of fine things in one poor Baptist preacher's 
study. Tell Wharton (M. B.) that I have been praising his 
new study ever since I saw it last Summer. But now I would 
have to put on my old clothes to think of entering his. He 
must come up and see it." 

In the meantime, the great Moody campaign is on. A large 
tabernacle capable of seating 5,000 people had been erected 
and Dr. Hatcher, as chairman of the general committee, found 
his days and nights crowded with duties. He regarded Mr. 
Moody as a mighty man of God and accorded him high and 
affectionate admiration and from the glorious celebrations of 
the dedication day he plunged into the evangelistic campaign. 

"Your father is the generalissimo of the Moody meetings," 
writes my mother. "That will give him a good deal more work. 
He does not seem to mind it." 

"Moody came yesterday", he writes me. "He had a ripping 
crowd and a freezing hall at his first service last night. I did 
much quarreling with the building committee for not having 
better arrangements for heating the room. But they could not 
see the use for it and hence these icicles. I was righteously 
out of humor last night, with a leaning to the side of mercy. 
Better things are promised tonight." 

On Tuesday the telephone rang. It was Mr. Moody. "Can 
I get Grace Street Church for my meetings?" he asked. The 
cold spell made the Tabernacle uncomfortable; the request 
was granted and in the new and beautiful auditorium the mul- 
titudes gathered for two days. 



358 THE MOODY MEETINGS 

"The chairmanship of the Moody meeting", he .writes, 
"imposes an endless array of detail work upon me. 

"Of course Moody owns the town. It would hardly be an 
exaggeration to say that 10,000 were shut out of the tabernacle 
yesterday. The room was overrun last night two hours before 
preaching time. We had extra meetings at several churches, 
but the floods of the disappointed rolled away and got nothing. 
You know that we had trouble with the tabernacle on account 
of the cold snap. Moody asked me to let him come to our 
church until the weather changed and we had him for five 
services. The folks were terribly afraid that the crowd would 
ruin things in the new house and the tobacco fiend did hurt us a 
little. But I was glad to have him in the house. He was de- 
lighted with it and said that it was wonderful that we could 
build such a house for $75,000. I did not tell him that it cost 
under 170,000. The power of Moody's work is growing. 

"We had only morning service yesterday. I preached to an 
order of some unrememberable name. There were about 200 
of them. I suppose that I had just about enough to have 
packed my floor with this 200." 

As chairman of the general committee he had many pleasant 
experiences with Mr. Moody. Among other things it was his 
part to select the different ministers who should at each service 
lead in prayer. Mr. Moody said : 

"I insist on one point, and that is that the men selected 
to lead in prayer must have voices that will carry to the verge 
of the building." 

At one of the evening services Dr. Hatcher stepped down to 
a minister and asked him to be ready to offer the next prayer. 
The brother said he would do so. He was of large build and 
looked as if he could "roar like a lion." Dr. Hatcher whispered 
to him: 

"It is not easy to be heard in this tabernacle. When Mr. 
Moody calls for the prayer you must go at once upon the plat- 
form where Mr. Moody is and have strict regard to the dis- 
tinctness and reach of your articulation." 

"Oh, it will be easy for everybody to hear me" insisted the 
brother of large bulk. He spoke with unconcerned air and 



NOT LOUD ENOUGH 359 

there he stood waiting for his performance. In a few moments 
Mr. Moody called for the prayer. 

"My brother of the massive chest/' writes Dr. Hatcher, 
"firm in the conviction that he had only to open his mouth and 
a good part of the earth would hear, began his petition in a 
subterranean tone, an inarticulate mumble, and Moody squir- 
med and shook with impatience. At last he could hold out 
no longer and he said in an awfully commanding way, "Pray 
louder there, will you." 

"But the unimpassioned petitioner drawled along, never 
lifting his voice and plodding to a very slow end. After the 
prayer was over and the house was full of song, with his eyes 
to the floor, he turned reproachfully and said: 'What on earth 
did you select that man for?' I said to him: 'Look here, Mr. 
Moody, I try to work in men from the several Denominations 
and, in some cases, I have to take my chances on the brethren; 
I am not posted as to their vocal ability. As for that man, I 
measured him for a far reacher, but I slipped up'. A faint 
light of good humor flitted across his face, but never a word he 
said. I urged Mr. Moody to exercise his own judgment in the 
choice of men to lead in prayer. A few prominent men he 
knew, some by name and others by appearance. When he 
wanted one of the latter class to pray he would turn and point 
at him, rather, grotesquely, as it seemed to me, and would say, 
'You pray' and if he knew the men he would call them by name. 
There was one charming Methodist preacher always present, 
very attractive and evidently most pleasing to Mr. Moody. 
It was the Rev. Dr. Tudor, one of the choicest of my own 
friends. But Mr. Moody got it into his head that the brother's 
name was Truder and he was very fond of calling on him to 
pray. He would cry it out with great emphasis: — 'Let us 
all join with Dr. Truder in prayer.' The humor of it actually 
turned into mischief and most of [the brethren, when they came 
up on the platform, before the exercises commenced, took pains 
to pay their compliments to 'Brother Truder' and before the 
meeting ended 'Brother Truder' was a part of the makeup, 
the happy life and the comradeship of the platform. Even to 
this day, when on street or train, I have the happy fortune to 
meet this extremely fine brother, I hail him as 'Dr. Truder' 
and then we talk of Moody, — the honest, great hearted Moody, 
of the days we had with him and how he had glorified God by 
his death." 



360 A TILT WITH MR. MOODY 

He had another pleasant tilt with Mr. Moody in the meetings. 
He learned that each night hundreds of workingmen were turned 
away from the tabernacle. Being unable to get to the meetings 
at an early hour they would find, upon their arrival each even- 
ing, the building crowded and the doors shut. He (Dr. Hatcher) 
greatly desired that seats be reserved for this class of men. 
He thus writes: 

"Mr. Moody had the deadliest antipathy to empty seats. 
He seemed to regard them as one class of enemies that he 
might hate with all possible abhorrence. In some way, they 
suggested to him a lack of interest, a possible failure, or a 
lack of progress. So pronounced was this feeling in him that he 
opposed every suggestion as to reserved seats. During this 
meeting the crowds were so vast that the auditorium would 
fill a full hour before the time for service, and fill with the 
idle and the indulgent, to the exclusion of thousands of men 
who were eager to hear the noble evanglist. To me the ushers 
and the people were firing all sorts of complaints and I ap- 
pointed a committee of two of our most eminent ministers, 
Dr. W. J. Young, Methodist, and Dr. W. W. Landrum, Bap- 
tist, to see Mr. Moody and tell him the situation. They came 
back hopelessly dilapidated. They said Mr. Moody was utterly 
opposed to it and that things would have to go on as they were. 
Two prominent gentlemen, Gen. A. L. Phillips and Col. Swine- 
ford, had charge of the ushers and of the seating of the con- 
gregation and they were greatly disgruntled by Mr. Moody's 
decision. I chanced to pass them while driving up the street 
and they said, in a tone of good natured reproach, that some 
arrangement ought to be made for allowing the men to hear Mr. 
Moody. I said, rather jocosely, but with earnestness at the 
bottom, that if I had the right kind of committee, I would 
have the men in the house that night, but I told them if I were 
to give them an order and Mr. Moody gave them one cut with 
his eye they would take to the woods. In a breath they said: 
'give us a chance, — tell us what to do and you'll get it.' 

'Rope off 1000 chairs tonight near the Main Street door', 
I said and cracked my horse and was gone. 

"That night, when I entered the tabernacle, there — not far 
from the pulpit on the right — was a desert in the midst of a 
crowded population, and when at seven-thirty Mr. Moody en- 
tered and sat down by me he saw those untenanted chairs and 



A TILT WITH MR. MOODY 361 

his face clouded at once. He turned rather fiercely on me and 
said, 'What does that mean? I am opposed to reserved seats.' 

"I took out my watch and looked at it. It lacked twenty- 
seven minutes of eight. I said: 'Mr. Moody you begin preach- 
ing at eight o'clock every night and all I ask is that you will 
wait until five minutes before eight. The streets are full of 
people and this house is full of women and if within this time 
these vacant chairs are not occupied I will see that every one 
is filled before you take your text'. In about ten minutes the 
men out on the street found that there was a chance and it 
looked like an army charging a castle. They tumbled in eager, 
serious and with evident delight. I drew my watch, opened it 
and held it before Mr. Moody. He uttered not a word. But 
that unbroken pack of men right there before him kindled 
new fires in his soul and he preached like a man risen from the 
dead. 

"That night in making the announcements for the next day 
he said: 'I want to ask the ushers to reserve one-half of this 
building, tomorrow night, for men'. Never a word passed 
between him and myself in regard to the incident and I con- 
fess that his new manifestation of reasonableness and of readi- 
ness to adjust himself to a situation added one, or two, ad- 
ditional cubits to his stature, in my estimation." 

He received a letter from his orphan boy, Coleman, that 
gave him much joy, because of the affectionate appreciation 
which it breathed. It was too seldom that he heard words 
of loving gratitude from those whom he helped and when this 
boy showed such gratitude it sounded like sweet music. In 
the midst of absorbing engagements he wrote a fine love letter 
to Coleman in reply. 

"My Dear Boy, — Here is your letter. It reached me this 
morning. It is not as carefully written as I would like, but I 
can overlook this as you were to have two examinations on 
that day. 

"But there was something in the letter that was worth 
more to me than grammatical accuracy. What do you sup- 
pose it was? It was the cheerful way in which you spoke 
of your visit home and of your expressions of love for me and 
your desire to be with me. That came home to my heart. . . 
I think of you in the day and in the night. You are my own 



362 A CHEERING LETTER 

darling boy and nobody on earth has a right to one little 
finger of you except myself. There is not enough money in the 
United States treasury to buy you from me. You may be as 
wicked as you will and break my heart by your ingratitude, 
but I will stick to you. If I can, I will make a first class man of 
you. I pray for you. I spend my money on you. I correct 
you if you go astray, but whether I deny you, or please you, 
I am toiling to make such a boy as God will bless and use for 
his honor. 

"I am much comforted by every proof that you give me 
of your love. I want you to love me and I am glad every time 
you tell me that you do love me. How I wish I had you right 
here now. How I would say, 'Walk right here and give me a 
big, big hug'. I would fairly make your bones crack. When 
must I come to see you? 

"Miss Genie wrote me that she did not feel able to undertake 
to get up an entertainment at the close of the session but you 
can say to her that if she would like for you boys to have a dia- 
logue at the time I would drill you for it. Tell her I would do 
it to help and please her and that if there be any good reason 
why it would be better not to have it I hope she will not hesi- 
tate to say so. It would be some trouble to me to do so but I 
would do it if she desired it. 

"We have been having delightful cakes and broiled shad 
since you left and I have longed to have you near me so that 
I could give you a good portion. Never mind; two months 
and I will have you near all the time. Heaven speed the day. 

"Above all, my dear Coleman, be honest and truthful. Do 
nothing that you would be ashamed to tell me. I want your 
face to beam with the light of a pure heart. Pray often for 
God to be your helper. Do not forget the Word of God. 
"Your Loving Friend, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

He had another amusing experience with Mr. Moody which 
was followed by a delightful sequel. He gave Mr. Moody an 
imperious invitation one day saying: 

"Mr. Moody, in these meetings, I am your humble servant, 
butT am a servant with a favor to ask." 

"Say on" said the evangelist. 

"I want you to take breakfast with me and I want you to do 
so whether you desire to do so or not," said Dr. Hatcher. Mr. 
Moody replied: 



THE MOODY BREAKFAST 363 

"I want to come and I will, but I will go to but one other 
place except your house; I will come to you on the morning 
of the last day of the meeting and I would not have you think 
that it will be a strain to accept your kindness. I ask you not to 
mention the engagement. 7 ' 

He then goes on to relate how during the course of the 
meetings the breakfast idea kept bobbing up in Mr. Moody's 
illustrations. 

"One of Mr. Moody's favorite figures of the gospel," he 
writes "was that of a feast or a supper. Four different times 
he caught me up for an illustration and always began by saying : 
'Suppose my friend, Dr. Hatcher, should invite me to his house 
to breakfast' each time giving a different turn to the ending 
of the sentence. The frequency of his supposition caught the 
crowd towards the last, and particularly the preachers, and 
brought upon me quite a shower of facetious bantering. One 
friend came forward and said that truly of all men I was the 
most inhospitable, that Mr. Moody evidently hankered after 
one of my breakfasts and that it was outright cruelty on my 
part not to take the hint." 

My mother writes me about the "Moody Breakfast": 

"I can't tell you how sorry I was that you were not at the 
breakfast this morning. It was surely a royal one. That seemed 
to be the verdict of those present. Dr. Landrum and Tudor 
stopped afterwards to get the Menu for their wives and com- 
plimented it very extravagantly. To Orie belonged most of 
the credit. She has such a systematic and orderly way of 
doing things that she seems to have only to will in order that 
things may move under her bidding. David [the sexton] and 
John did their part finely as waiters. Strawberries, oysters 
and chicken were among the good things. Governor O'Ferrall 
came up promptly at eight o'clock in his carriage; and soon 
afterwards Mr. Moody and son came. Mr. Thornhill, Landrum, 
Tudor, and Puryear were here. . . The small talk abounded 
mostly stories of course. The Governor is pleasant and full 
of good stories. He and Mr. Moody vied with each other and 
thoroughly enjoyed each other, I think. The only set back 
to it all was that you and Kate were not present. 

"I found a pretty little book, 'Gift of Love/ lying on the 



364 THE MOODY BREAKFAST 

table, with my name in it, from Mr. Moody. It was so delicate- 
ly done. I certainly appreciated it. It was a verse of scripture 
and poetry for every day in the year." 

At a later time he thus referred to the occasion: 

"I invited a number of friends, several of them, famous 
for good cheer and social grace. Among them was the gov- 
ernor of Virginia and another, a most brilliant writer and 
scholar, and all of them congenial by reason of the catholicity 
of their tastes, their honor, their rich intelligence, and their 
attractive personalities. I have not seen in all of my days a 
happier company. 

"The governor carried a yankee bullet hid away somewhere, 
where it neither troubled him, nor anybody else, and was an 
unmatched story teller. My literary friend was a philosopher 
and his epigrams, struck off spontaneously, were charged with 
his wit and brimming with good humor. The hours partook 
of the festive joy and flew joyously away. Mr. Moody was 
the master of it all. He told his stories in simplest fashion 
and made his point every time and with boundless relish he 
enjoyed the happy comradeship of the morning." 



CHAPTER XXIX 
1894—1896 

Y. M. C. A. COLLECTION. EAGERNESS TO WIN. CHRISTIAN UNION. 

RICHMOND COLLEGE. TOPICAL NOTES. PURCHASE OF 

HOME AT FORK UNION. CHICAGO ADDRESS. 

Within a few weeks he is called upon to play three very- 
different roles, two of which have just been recited. At first 
he was the pastor, greeting his great church as they gather for 
the first time in their splendid new auditorium. Next, he 
stood as first assistant in a vast, evangelistic campaign, 
at the head of varied committees, seeking to keep the track 
clear and the machinery in good running order for Mr. Moody 
to do his great work. And now no sooner do the Moody 
meetings close than we see him standing before an assembly 
of the chief business men of Richmond, as well as the leading 
pastors of the different denominations, including the Jewish 
Rabbi and those of no Denominations, seeking to stimulate 
them to large giving in behalf of the Young Men's Christian 
Association of the city. These citizens had been summoned 
together in the interest of the Association and he had been 
asked to present the appeal. As he called for their subscrip- 
tions he said: 

"I warn you against putting off until tomorrow what can 
be done today. Tomorrow is always a day of backsliding in 
the matter of subscriptions. The ministers will do their part. 
They are kept low, in the matter of funds, but they are good 
business men nevertheless. They manage to support first 
class establishments on fourth class salaries and never 
brake." 

365 



366 THE Y. M. C. A. COLLECTION 

"He gave $100 to the Y. M. C. A." writes my mother "too 
much, but it is scattered over four years." His gift for taking 
collections must have cost him thousands of dollars and yet 
his own contributions came cheerfully and without constraint. 

"I had quite a time taking the collections for the Y. M. C. A. 
last week" he writes "and I rather enjoyed it. There were two 
citizens' meetings for that purpose and I took the two pulls 
for the money both times. It brought me before lots of people, 
who never knew me before, and they got many a laugh at my 
little sallies of humor. It made me friends. 

"I am wofully fagged out. I slipped out to Bob's Friday, 
but I was so very much exhausted that the relaxation posi- 
tively made me sick. Still I had a charming visit." 

He promised to lecture at his Grace Street Church for the 
benefit of the Y. M. C. A. at the College. 

"I dread it too much to speak of" he writes. "I am not sure 
of my crowd but I am willing to be slaughtered to show that I 
am of an obliging turn of mind." 

His next letter shows one of his signal traits, — his eagerness 
to win. He attended the all-day picnic of the pastors at Forest 
Hill Park and writes about his contest with one of his choice 

friends, Dr. L — , who was also one of the Richmond 

pastors : 

"We had a ripping time this afternoon. There was a big 
turn-out and quoits went high. Bob and I won the champion- 
ship. It went awfully hard with L and he fought hard 

to escape the humiliation of his defeat but we ran him into the 
very ground." 

He was driving Mr. Slaughter in his buggy one day when he 
found himself in the street with several conveyances all of 
which seemed anxious to drive on past him. He whipped up 
his horse and sent him speeding ahead at a lively clip. 

"Doctor" said Mr. Slaughter somewhat facetiously "you 
are not going to race out here on the street are you?" "I tell 
you, Slaughter" he replied, as he kept his eye on his horse's 
pace and his hand on his whip, "It is a part of my nature always 
to want to keep ahead." 



DR. JOHN A. BROADUS 367 

He writes again on April, 1st: 

"Richmond, Va., April 1st. 

"My Dear Eldridge, — I greet you again. How are you 
this dismal morning? At this monent — nine to the second — I 
venture to imagine that your head is wrapped in several 
blankets and that you are still in the land of troubled dreams. 
Not so with your illustrious father. True he had eight ser- 
vices yesterday and did not touch his pillow until after eleven 
last night; but here he is in all his pristine splendor, so to 
speak, but with a lot unregulated aches and ailments floating 
through his body. 

"I am preparing an article on Dr. Broadus which I am to 
read for the Preacher's Conference next Monday and then give 
it to the Herald. 

"Yours as usual, mistakes and all." 

In this article on Dr. John A. Broadus, he said: 

"Great men deserve to be well treated in this world, for 
they are rare. When all apparent greatness is brushed away 
and only the actual great are left they make a small company." 

In referring to Dr. Broadus' oration at Richmond College, 
on "Demosthenes" he said: 

"It was the supreme effort of a giant. . . He threw the 
light of all ages upon the Athenian orator, until he glowed with 
a majestic light and the enchanted and enraptured audience 
hastened away to buy the orations of the peerless Athenian 
and to find when they attempted to read them that they were 
dulness itself, as compared with Broadus. Indeed it was 
Broadus, and not Demosthenes, that they went out to look for. 

"All great men are artists. Many glorify Patrick Henry 
as the 'forest born' orator and think of him as a fountain of 
rich and unstudied eloquence. Truly, he was an orator and 
may have been forest born, but he was an expert in composition 
and public speech. . . . Art without genius makes the 
dullard; without earnestness makes the actor; without sin- 
cerity, makes the hypocrite; when allowed to play the mis- 
tress, genius debases it, but, when made its slave, will lead to 
greatness. 

"Broadus, with his course finished and his crown won, is 
more to us than ever he was in the days of his flesh. He will 
be yet more to us when we see him again." 






368 THE SIDE WHISKERS 

In June he writes: "I am so fat in these latter days that the 
heat has a large margin to work on and it does its business 
quite faithfully." At the close of one of his hot days he had a 
visitor of whom he draws the following sketch : 

"He rang the bell while we were having our evening glass 
of cold tea, and expressed a desire to look upon the beauty of 
our countenance, being a dear friend of ours. For comfort 
he preferred to sit on the porch and there we found him. He 
was very stylish. Indeed we were sorry that we had not 
changed our collar and coat to meet him. He gave us a great 
welcome, so to speak, and spoke with a swelling abandon of the 
many times that we had met, although we could not recall any 
of our former meetings. He was dressed immensely, and what 
bore us to the earth was his side whiskers. There is a majesty 
in side whiskers that gets us every time. It gives a tone and 
grandeur to a man — we mean the possesssion of side whiskers, 
that commands our universal respect. He was just from Boston, 
and intended going to his home today, but important news 
required him to go to Kentucky at once. He had money to get 
home, but not enough to get to Kentucky. He had called on 
a friend in the city who would have shed dew drops of joy to 
lend him all the money he could dispose of, but unluckily, 
the said friend was beyond the city limits, (as we wished that 
moment we were), and so he had to presume on our acquaintance 
to request a favor. That was a solemn moment in our earthly 
career and we shook visibly. The side whiskers overawed us, 
and there was silence for some time. We were thinking of that 
mysterious bourne from which no borrowed money returns, 
when he snapped at us in a contemptuous way, which moved 
our angry passions. We grew stronger and refused. We were 
proud of our courage and felt heroic when the side whiskers 
stalked loftily and scornfully away, and we were free once more. 
No man with side whiskers need ask charity of us." 

He returned to Richmond, in September, after his vaca- 
tion travels and labors, and he was made happy, a few days 
later, by the safe return of his wife and his daughter, Orie 
from their European trip. A Reception at the church was 
tendered his wife. Dr. Landrum made an address to her on 
behalf of the ladies to which Dr. Hatcher responded. 



HIS WIFE'S DEVOTED CO-OPERATION 369 

"At the foot of the table" writes my mother "was a hand- 
some white cake with "J. S. H." [Jennie Snead Hatcher] on it. 
Probably it was the happiest occasion since the silver wedding. 

"Your father asked me when he returned home if I felt 'duly 
inflated'. I told him I thought so." 

His wife was greatly beloved in the church. She always 
showed keen interest in the general work of the church and, 
although carrying the burdens of a large household, yet she 
found time to participate in many of the church enterprises. 
In addition to all this she was an active factor in the denom- 
inational work that was done by the Baptist women of the 
city and state. 

"Why do you not adopt special hours for visitors?" some one 
asked him. "I cannot do that" he replied. "My study door 
must swing open to any who desire to come." 

"This" writes his wife "was one of the reasons why he 
hied himself away into the country so frequently." 

"Your father braved the elements" she writes on Sept. 27th 
"and went to the study (on Thursday night) to get ready for 
Sunday, the loafers and axe-grinders having robbed him of 
much of his mornings this week. It does seem as if ministers 
ought to have some retreat away from the out-siders to prepare 
their sermons. Nobody excuses a poor sermon even when the 
preparation has to be made under difficulties. 

"The girls and Coleman are studying in the dining room. 
The latter has begun school at McGuire's." 

"Yesterday was a roaring day at Old Grace Street" he writes 
on Oct. 15th "The crowds were prodigious. Of course the 
strangers were numerous. Last night there was a flood of them. 
The silent brethren who rarely say words of cheer for the 
preacher, actually got noisy yesterday about my sermons. 
In the morning my theme was 'The Religious Awakening at 
Samaria, and at night, 'The Trembling King.' " 

He makes his usual annual round of visits to his members. 
He writes: 

"I am getting up into the fifth hundred of my members 
visiting, since I got home five weeks tonight. How is that for 
an old gent of my style?" 






370 CHRISTIAN UNION 

He urges me to spend earnest work on addresses which I 
have to deliver on special occasions. 

"You must begin quietly and carefully to amass material 
for such work. You must work over your stuff again and again. 
My lecture on the Dance consumed weeks of my time. I 
spent hours on sentences." 

On Sunday, November 12th, he made a deliverance on the 
vexed subject of "the union of all christian Denominations." 
The sermon was printed in full in the Dispatch. He began by 
saying that he believed that if all christians should harmon- 
iously agree and cordially unite in one body that it "would be 
the most sublime and glorious event that could occur on the 
earth — next to the advent of the Son of God — and would do 
more than all else to hasten that day." And then he adds: 

"If I could find any one thing in the distinctive doctrines 
of the Baptists, which stood in the way of the union of all 
christians on a Bible basis I would discard it instantly and I 
hope that the Baptists will stand in the forefront of the move- 
ment for the unification of the Lord's hosts on the earth. 

"This I say from the bottom of my heart. But let us under- 
stand that this is a vast and far reaching question. It comes to 
us with the entanglements of the ages upon it. It has to fight 
the prejudices of centuries. Bigotry, ecclesiastical pride, 
political influence, social intolerance and racial hatred are 
bound hand in hand against this movement. Those who think 
that it will be easy to bring about christian union have never 
looked beneath the surface of the question. Those who em-' 
bark upon this undertaking have need to pray for the faith 
that removes mountains. 

"It is easy for a gushing liberalist, charged with sweet 
phrases and a melting manner, to whip an impulsive crowd into 
a momentary craze for union, but let some sharp-tongued critic 
begin to assail the favorite dogmas of those who are present, 
and the foaming tide of enthusiasm will fade as the morning 
cloud." 

He then proceeds to mention some of the vain plans for 
bringing about such union. 



CHRISTIAN UNION 371 

"One plan is to rub out all denominational lines and allow 
all christians to come in bringing with them all their peculiar 
doctrines and their methods of work. That would be 'union 
without unity'. Another scheme is for us to get all chris- 
tian people to gather at the gate of some vast camp, unload 
all of their distinguishing views, and agree not to believe any- 
thing that any one else cannot believe and not to insist on 
what they believe. 

"Still another plan is to rally the scattered friends of God 
back to union on some one of the many creeds as held by the 
sects." 

He suggested no plan for bringing about the union, "but" 
said he "there is much that Christians can do to forward the 
movement for union. 

"1. We should strive honestly to make sectarianism odious. 

"2. We must cultivate interdenominational charity. 

"3. We must labor to bring the christian world to under- 
stand that the only possible basis for christian union is the 
authority of the Word of God." 

November 20th, finds him at Nashville, Tenn., aiding Dr. 
Frost in meetings at the First Baptist Church. 

"We are like an army" he writes from Nashville "lining up 
for battle, throwing out our heavy skirmish lines and seeking 
to get other forces brought forward and put in position before 
the general onset." 

Again he writes: 

"Thus far I have dealt only with Christians. It is a fierce 
battle which we are fighting." 

The campaign, however, was crowned with victory. He 
writes: 

"In many respects the meeting has been equal to the best I 
have ever seen. . . I think that a new era is dawning for 
the church." 

He was subjected to a trying experience at this time. An 



372 RICHMOND COLLEGE 

election was to take place at Richmond College, of whose 
Board of Trustees, he was a member. There was a lining up 
of the friends of the candidate and of those opposed to him 
and among the latter were some of Dr. Hatcher's prominent 
church members. The lines were closely drawn and the 
agitation was very intense. As both pastor and Trustee, he 
found himself in a peculiarly delicate and puzzling position, 
and while his desire for the candidate's election was strong, yet 
he determined to take no active part in the contest. But it was 
known that he had been for several years a very helpful friend 
of the candidate and it was concluded that he had championed 
his Cause. 

"It has gone out" he writes "that I was the leading spirit 
in the movement and quite a number are mad with me. But I 
have a motto which comforts me often: 'He that believeth 
shall not make haste'. I will keep silent and let the heathen 
rage for a season and then I will tell the facts. But I have 
no thought of running around to explain my action in the case. 
I regret that several. . . have gone wild over the thing 
and the worst in the lot is. . . It distresses me deeply. 
But keep still and wait. Things will come out all right." 

• 

The above text "He that believeth shall not make haste" 

was one of his guiding stars. Many were the times he quoted 

it, as being one of his life mottoes. In the times of strain, or 

opposition, when tempted to act impulsively, he would cool 

his brow with, the above words and go peacefully about his 

work. 

He threw open his home on January 1st, for a New Year's 

Reception to his church members and friends. He writes: 

"My New Year's Reception threatens to take the town. It 
is to cast all others in the thickening shadows of oblivion. It 
is to bring all folks together as far as possible. It will pull the 
sacred dust out of 'Brer Hatcher's' vest pocket, but never 
mind about that." 

He began at this time a work which he continued until the 
end of his life,— that of writing the "Topical Notes" for "The 



SUNDAY SCHOOL "LESSONS" 373 

Baptist Teacher", which was read each week by nearly all the 
Baptist Sunday School teachers in the South. There were 
three interesting facts connected with his writing these "Les- 
sons." In the first place, the only Bible helps he ever used in his 
writings was a little red book which he carried often in his 
pocket — called "Pell's Notes" — containing the Scripture for 
each Sunday with a few brief notes. In the second place, he al- 
ways had his "Lessons" at the Nashville office before the ap- 
pointed date. Dr. VanNess, editor of the Teacher, said that 
while he had many bothers with other writers, yet Dr. Hatcher 
was his delight, in that he never disappointed, nor delayed, him 
in the matter of his "Notes". 

This was remarkable, in view of the irregular life which he 
lived. On trains, in depots, in homes of others, — in all manner 
of places — was this writing done, and yet the "Lessons" never 
jumped the track nor missed their schedule time. 

In the third place, in writing these notes, he would never 
correct them after the first writing. Many were the times when 
he would call out to some member of the family: 

" , I want you to help me on my lessons" which 

meant that that person would write them out for him at his dic- 
tation. He would always ask the amanuensis to read them over 
after writing them, — in order to note any clerical errors that 
may have occured; but the sentences that he had first called 
out always stood. So wonderfully had he, in his early ministry, 
gathered a choice vocabularly and brought his mental forces 
under control that now he was reaping the reward and in his 
composition his first word was generally his best word. In 
this way his preparation of his lessons consumed the minimum 
of his time, and he was enabled through the remaining years of 
a life that was crowded with uncountable tasks to have his 
matter for the Sunday School Board on their desk, each month, 
waiting for the stroke of the clock. The writing of these 
Lessons gave him keen pleasure in the grateful words that were 
ever reaching him from his readers all over the South. These 
grateful words would come to him in his letters, in greetings 



374 SOME SUNDAY SCHOOL "NOTES" 

on the train, at Conventions and in his visits to Churches. He 
also drew rich comfort from the Bible study which he was 
compelled to do in connection with his writing of the Lessons. 
A few paragraphs from his "Notes" are here quoted. They 
are taken from some "Teachers" that happen to be near at 
hand. If all his "Notes" should be published they would make 
a large volume. 

"The true fame of the preacher is to be known more by the 
place he has in the heart, than in the eye, of the public." 

"A COMPACT AUDIENCE. It is hard to stir a scattered 
audience." 

"THE PASTOR. He who can put his members to work in 
the Master's service is the best doctor that many of them could 
have." 

"THE DEAD LINE. There is no dead line for those who 
burn with the desire to work till Jesus comes." 

"There is hope for a man who is fond of those who are candid 
enough to tell him of his errors and faults." 

"The Lord never takes his servants at their worst." 

"JONAH AND THE GOSPEL. There is almost enough 
gospel in Jonah and his Book to save the world." 

"If a man will pull his house down on himself and be buried 
in the ruins, let him, at least, have pity enough to let his 
children have a chance to get out." 

"Daniel kept open house for the Lord, opening his windows 
towards Jerusalem." 

"MERCY'S SWEET WAY. Mercy comes not as the storm, 
but comes with silent feet, and comes to heal and bind up broken 
hearts; its touch is as soft as the evening light; its ointment is 
fragrant and refreshing; it has no ruffled brow, no impatient 
word; no rebukes for the past, no threats for the future." 

His burdens, at this time, were grievously heavy, but he 
kept steadfastly to his work. On his twentieth Anniversary his 
church insisted upon making the morning service an occasion 
for doing him honor and Prof. Harris and others spoke words 
of praise, and on the next night the auditorium was thronged at 
a reception given the pastor and his wife by the church members 
and the Richmond friends. Dr. Landrum presided and the 
various pastors spoke. 



KATE'S MARRIAGE 375 

He indulged in a commercial transaction at this time that 
was destined to open a new and large chapter in his life. He 
purchased a small tract of land at Fork Union, Va., upon which 
to erect a Summer home. He expected that this home would, 
among other things, answer the question that lifted its head 
every year in the family circle, viz., "Where shall we go this 
Summer?" 

He gave a young preacher a word of counsel at this time that 
showed one of his traits of leadership. The young man wanted 
his church to make extended improvements on their newly 
purchased building. He wrote the young minister that he 
had better not force the entire issue at once, "If you can get 
your folks to start in on the thing" he writes "their interest 
will grow and you can lead them by degrees. But your demand 
for all at once will scare them and combine the timid and con- 
servative against you. Talk to them about the things that 
must necessarily be done. Let them get the fever of improve- 
ment in their blood and other things can be worked up by 
taking them one at a time. A flank movement is far better 
than a front attack." 

"I had my preachers' Supper last night" he writes to Eliza- 
beth "Willingham, Mullins, Wright and Nelson, with their 
wives, constituted the party, Mr. and Mrs. Boatwright not 
being able to come. The supper was quite elegant and the 
evening went off like a golden charm. 

"As Ever Your Old Stick of a Papa, 

"W. E. H." 

His daughter Kate was married on June 15th, to Prof. C. L. 
DeMott and he took great interest in arranging the wedding 
programme which was a singularly beautiful one. The cere- 
mony was performed by him in the church. 

He could crowd into short space much valuable advice. To 
a minister, in another city, he suggests a plan for raising the 
money for a new building: 

"Strike, — say for $10,000, Let no man tell how much he is 
going to give (except to you and the committee), until you 



376 CHICAGO ADDRESS 

have a roaring mass meeting to take the subscriptions. That 
meeting ought to be the biggest thing you ever heard of and, 
in the name of the Lord, you must sweep the deck and get 
the bottom dollar." 

Regarding his Sunday work of January 26th, he writes; 
"My sermon in the morning went off well, but at night I wept 
over Jerusalem in a manner which was enough to disgust the 
Jews." On the following Sunday afternoon he writes: "J 
have an unpronounceable Armenian to preach for me tonight." 

He went by invitation, to Chicago, to address the Baptist 
Social Union of that city, and on his way he dropped me a line 
from Cincinnatti saying: "Here I am on my way to the slaughter 
house — only I will have to open my mouth before the shearers." 
His Chicago audience included the pick and cream of the 
Baptist ministry and laity of that city, with a goodly number 
of representatives from the University of Chicago. As he 
arose to deliver his address there was a hearty clapping of 
hands. 

"You do well" he began "to prefix your applause to the 
impending address. You show your courtesy and dispose 
of a responsibility. You are like the farmer who prepaid his 
annual debt to heaven by saying grace when he killed hogs. 
Let fate do its worse with my performance tonight, you are 
safe and I am not in despair, for, when I get home, I can, at 
least, comfort my few surviving friends by declaring that my 
address was received with great manual dexterity." 

His subject was "Charity" and was a plea for optimism in 
dealing with human character. He did not sound the doleful 
note, "Alas, the rarity of christian charity under the sun." 
And yet he made it plain that charity deserves a much higher 
place in the ranks of Christian virtues. He said: 

"If the family of Adam — that is, of course, if we can be 
charitable enough to believe that the old gentleman had a 
family — (laughter) would hit the mark every fire and keep 
out of mischief, charity would have to close doors." 

Speaking of certain pugilistic Baptists he said: 



CHICAGO ADDRESS 377 

"They would rather track a heretic into the wilderness than 
to bring a prodigal home; they would fire a Bodleian library 
to rid the world of a bad book." 

"It is the province of charity" said he, "to run a line through 
every character and put the agreeable and the good on one 
side, and the objectionable on the other. After this division, 
charity takes the weak and offensive, wraps it in its own mantle 
and hides it. With the evil thus disposed of charity bids us 
lay hold of what is left and enter into relations with that." 

In these words he unconsciously was stating one of his own 
guiding principles. That which made him so entertaining to 
men — Dr. W. W. Landrum said he considered him the most 
entertaining man in the Baptist ministry of his day — was 
because people, as a rule, were so entertaining to him. His 
eye burrowed down into an individual until it rested upon what 
was human, — yea upon what was noble in the individual, and 
he conducted his negotiations with that noble part. 

"This is the only way" said he, "that some men get along 
with their wives, — by making an allowance and some wives 
insist on very heavy and frequent allowances and this is cer- 
tainly the only way in which wives can make the trip with 
their husbands. They have to divide up their husbands and 
after locking up the mean and intolerable portions of them 
seek to keep house with what is left, — the difficulty being in 
many cases that when they have stored away all the meanness 
of their husbands there is nothing left and they are practically 
left widows." 

No one believed more firmly in the time honored doctrine 
of the Bible's inspiration than did he and yet he did not believe 
in making a bon-fire of the heretics. His address therefore was 
partly a plea for the higher critic. 

"I was lately on a train" said he "which stopped bodily 
out in an open field. I got out and strolled up to the engine 
to see what I could see. I found a wonderfully greasy old 
fellow under the engine, creeping around and cracking the 
engine here and there with a truly malicious hammer. I 
asked the fireman to stop the man lest he should break the 
engine, telling him that I had engaged it to take me up the 



378 CHICAGO ADDRESS 

country. He consoled me by explaining that he was merely 
trying the engine to see if it was all right. He said if it was 
out of order, it would be well for me to know it, and if it was 
all right, it would not hurt me to know it. I went silently 
back into the car. 

"It is hard to believe that the critic is anxious to destroy 
the Bible. If he is, he cannot do it. I have not the smallest 
fear that he can, but if he can, let him do it. What do I want 
with a Bible that a critic could upset. If his investigations 
only go to confirm my faith in the Bible, then he is my bene- 
factor, and it may be that if I will treat him with charity, 
while he is shaking and testing the rock of my hope, he may 
come to believe in the foundation and get on it. At any rate 
we must give him time." 

"They listened" said he "with bright and responsive kind- 
ness as I, for forty five minutes, spoke on charity as a working 
principle and gave the principle free permission to get in its 
work on the victim of the evening." 

In writing about it he said: "I had the trip of my life." 



CHAPTER XXX 
1896—1897 

A SHOCKING DISASTER. ARDUOUS BUILDING CAMPAIGN. REVIVAL 
MEETING IN GRANVILLE, OHIO. 

Royal days were these which came to him during this Winter 
of 1896. With a magnificent church building, with a church 
membership united and devoted, with multitudes flocking 
every Sunday to his ministry, with his own church work rich 
in its fruitage, he walked the heights. The city of Richmond 
held him in high esteem, his services were in wide demand, and 
loving greetings were accorded him wherever he went. His 
long Church-building campaign had bent his shoulders for a 
while, but all that was over, and there seemed to stretch before 
him many years of glorious ministry in his new building. How 
little he dreamed of the catastrophe that was impending. Dr. 
L. C. Broughton was aiding him in meetings at Grace Street. 

Tuesday, February 25, dawned brightly and he went forth 
to its tasks with a light step. There was, however, one mel- 
ancholy service that he had to render that day and that was 
to preach the funeral, at three o'clock, of one of his deacons, 
A. L. Shepherd. He went to his church at two o'clock to 
prepare for the funeral. As he enterred the building he noticed 
that it was full of smoke and he hunted up the sexton and said 
to him: "David, the house is full of smoke; open the windows 
and ventilate the building." 

"There is something the matter with the flues," the sexton 
replied, as he went off to attend to the matter. In a few seconds 
he came running back and shouted: 

"Good Lord, Doctor; the wood in the engine room is on fire; 
but I can put it out." 

379 



380 BURNING OF HIS CHURCH 

Dr. Hatcher ran out of the building to get some negroes to 
help him. He next ran across the street to the corner drug 
store and said: "My church is burning; send in the alarm." 

He hurried back to the church and the men said: "We can put 
it out, Doctor; You need not worry." 

As they said this he noticed smoke issuing from a recess 
above the engine room. In a few seconds the rumble and clang 
of the approaching fire engines were heard; in a few seconds 
more the anxious pastor expected to see the welcome stream 
of water pouring upon the flames, — when suddenly a tongue of 
fire was seen to leap into the main auditorium. The engines 
dashed up to the building and the firemen wildly unrolled the 
hose, but as the chief saw the flames now sweeping like mad 
demons through the large audience room he said to the pastor: 

"Doctor, the building is doomed. It is impossible to save it." 

Some one standing by saw a tear come in his eye as the chief 
made that announcement. "Will not some one break into my 
study and save some of my books and papers," he asked, and 
the reply was : 

"Doctor Hatcher, it is impossible. It would be dangerous 
for any one to attempt to enter the study, inasmuch as the fire 
started right under that room." 

From every direction the fire engines still kept coming; the 
men seemed mad as they leaped from their engines, but they 
were too late; by this time the church was a roaring furnace. 

And there stood the pastor gazing upon the magnificent 
structure that had been his joy and pride, that had cost him 
years of toil and sacrifice, there before his eyes it was now melt- 
ing away. A reporter rushed up to him with his many ques- 
tions but got no answer; so overwhelmed was he that he could 
not talk. Suddenly he felt two big strong arms around him, 
and a kindly voice said : 

"Never mind, Doctor; we will build another and you may 
call on me for $500". 

He turned around and looked into the face of Capt. Chas. 



BURNING OF HIS CHURCH 381 

H. Eppes. One of his Sunday School scholars, the daughter 
of his beloved deacon, E. M. Foster, caught hold of him and, 
with an imperious pull and tone of voice, said: "Come around 
home, Doctor Hatcher," and together they went to the Foster 
home near the church. It was then nearly time for the funeral 
of his beloved deacon, Mrs. Foster, who had already heard the 
dreadful news, saw him coming. 

"Make a strong cup of coffee at once" she shouted to the 
cook and then went to the door to greet him. As he entered 
the house he found the family crying and heartbroken. In a 
little while he was seated at the table drinking the coffee. 
Suddenly he lifted up the cup and brought it down with a bang 
upon the table. "I have always wondered" said Mrs. Foster, 
"why that cup did not break. He brought it down with such 
force, as he said with great earnestness: "The old house is 
gone, but we will build another." From that moment he seemed 
a new man. It was at that time that I found him. 

I was at home in Richmond on a visit that day, and at about 
two o'clock the fire bell rang and as we looked down Grace 
Street we noticed heavy volumes of smoke, and it was not very 
far away. I hurried down the street. The smoke appeared 
dangerously near the church — on I went, every step increasing 
my anxiety; from every direction the people were running and 
the fire bells were sounding and in a few seconds my worst 
fears were realized. The wind was raging — it seemed to be 
almost howling, — and the cinders were flying over our head 
as if driven by a hurricane. From every part of the city, 
along every street and alley, the crowds were coming; doors and 
windows of every house seemed open and the inmates of the 
homes were rushing off towards the burning church, and the 
ladies, who were not running, were standing at their front 
gates. The entire city appeared to have but one thought 
and that was that Grace Street Church was burning. 

As I dashed up to the surging throng my first thought was, 
of course, of my father, but no one could tell where he was. 
One bit of information hinted at his being then in the roaring 



382 THE CHURCH IN ASHES 

building. It was soon learned that he had gone to Mr. Foster's. 
There, instead of finding him prostrated by the sudden catas- 
trophe, I saw him standing at the mantel talking in calm 
and bright tones with the family and with others who had come 
in. It was the case of a soul quickly and completely triumphing 
over disaster. He knew well what those smoking walls and 
those heaps of ashes meant, — meant for him and for his church; 
he had gone through it all in that tragic half hour, and none 
can tell what he suffered in those moments. But it was over 
now; it had done its worst for him and he turned his face 
towards the future. He gave the following order : 

"See Dr. Landrum and tell him to open the Second Baptist 
Church for the funeral. Have notices of the funeral put up 
where all the people can see it who come to the fire and notify 
the family to head the procession for the Second Church." 

Shortly after that we were in a hack on our way to the 
funeral at the Second Church. In the sermon not by word or 
manner did he give any hint of the crisis through which he was 
passing. It was a woful picture presented by the deacons 
as they stood around the open grave. From the cemetery we 
drove back to the church, — or rather to the place where the 
church was — and as the deacons looked upon the smoking ruins 
they "cried like babies." In the meantime the whole city 
seemed excited and full of sympathy for the pastor and his 
people. The Richmond Dispatch devoted a considerable part 
of the paper to accounts of the calamity. Its readers were 
greeted by a large picture of the building in flames and with 
great headlines, such as 

THE CHURCH IN ASHES 

Grace Street's Splendid new Building Destroyed Yesterday 

Afternoon. 

The structure a total Wreck. 

Only fragments of the walls tell the story of desolation and ruin. 

Not a Single Article Saved 

The handsome furnishings and Dr. Hatcher's entire Library 

consumed. 
It caused many other Fires. 




AFTER THE FIRE 



A WONDERFUL MEETING 383 

The situation called for a leader and the pastor met the call. 
That afternoon, with his home surging with sympathetic 
callers, he talked with his visitors and laid his plans. As he was 
standing at the front door with some one who was speaking 
of his very heavy burdens he answered, — in a manner very 
impressive — " After all, I reckon that a person's worth in this 
world is in proportion to the burdens that he can carry." 

The insurance on the building was only $20,000, which 
was exactly the amount of indebtedness resting on the church. 
The fire therefore left them with nothing. "How are you feeling, 
Doctor?" asked a reporter who called on him that afternoon, 
and his reply was: "You may say that with a house full of 
company, two funerals and a marriage this afternoon, I am 
doing as well as could be hoped." To another reporter who 
came in he said: "The destruction of my sermons is a serious 
blow" — and turning to Dr. Landrum who was near by he added 
with a laugh "I reckon, however, I can get a supply from my 
friend Dr. Landrum." 

He issued in the next morning's paper a call to his church, 
asking that every member would meet him on the next after- 
noon, at four o'clock, at the First Presbyterian Church. It is 
doubtful whether any religious service was ever held in Rich- 
mond surpassing that one in dramatic interest. From all 
over the city on the next afternoon came the members and 
friends and as they gathered they sat with sad and tearful 
faces, — and some of the heads were bowed. At the appointed 
time, a door in the rear of the pulpit opened and Dr. Hatcher 
entered, accompanied by many brother ministers, including 
the Jewish Rabbi. As the pastor walked in, facing his members 
who felt that they were a people without a home, it is not 
surprising that nearly everybody fell to weeping, but as the 
pastor walked upon the pulpit he started an old fashioned 
hymn; his loyal members tried to join, but it was hard to cry 
and sing at the same time and the cry had the start and the 
advantage. In one case and another and another the song got 
the better of the cry and louder and louder rose the hymn, 



384 A WONDERFUL MEETING 

though in many cases the singing and the weeping were hope- 
lessly blended. When the song was ended the pastor came for- 
ward and with tearful eyes said: 

"I believe I will begin this meeting with a request that all 
who love the Lord and believe that you can follow him in the 
darkness as well as in the light will please stand up." 

Almost every person in that vast audience arose and after 
a prayer, Dr. Hatcher said: "Let us sing, 'Praise God from 
whom all blessings flow,' " and it was a spectacle indeed to see 
those Grace Street people, singing through their tears, that 
hymn of praise. Dr. Kerr, the pastor of the church in which 
the service was then being held, came forward and said, among 
other things: "The First Presbyterian church is yours as long 
and as often as you care to use it. The flames that destroyed 
your home have made a conflagration of brotherly love that 
nothing can destroy." The hymn "Blest be the tie that binds," 
was sung, and Dr. Hatcher said: "I never felt happier than 
I do now". Then, letting his gaze travel over the great au- 
dience, he said slowly: 

"On yesterday when the church burned I decided to say to my 
congregation that if another movement was to be inaugurated 
to build a church then some one else had better be placed at 
the head. I have changed my mind however." 

"Thank God" said some one. 

"If I had not" he said "I would have to go off in some place 
and die. So sincere and tender and encouraging have been the 
expressions of sympathy and confidence from all sides that I 
can do nothing but stand at my post." Then, with a bright- 
ening tone, he said: "I thank God that his blessed promises 
were not burned with the church. I never knew before how 
much I loved my people nor how much they loved me." He 
then read a paper which he had after consultation with the 
deacons prepared. The paper, among other things, suggested 
the appointment of two committees, one to deal with the 
matter of a temporary meeting place and the other committee 



A WONDERFUL MEETING 385 

to be a building committee to take in hand the matter of erect- 
ing a new structure,. 

"And now" said he "I want to ask that all you who think 
we ought to build another church will stand and join heartily 
in singing 'How firm a foundation' ". The members came to 
their feet and the hymn began to roll in power through the 
building. 

"Let us give our pastor the hand" suggested some one "and 
assure him of our willingness to cooperate with him in the 
struggle for a new building." 

Out into the aisles the people thronged, pressing towards the 
front and singing as they moved forwards. As they crowded 
about the pulpit, reaching forth their hands to their pastor, 
smiling and singing through their tears, they presented a 
thrilling picture. Rabbi Calish, who was near the pastor on 
the platform, remarked: 

"Dr. Hatcher, this is wonderful. Do your people always 
rally about you in such a way as that?" "Not always" replied 
Dr. Hatcher "it takes a fire to bring about such a scene. 
You know we had a little blaze down at the corner on yes- 
terday and my people have been tried by fire and this is the 
result." 

"Well Doctor" he said "this is one of the most wonderful 
manifestations upon which I have ever looked." 

"Doctor Hatcher" called out Dr. Landrum "I received a 
surprise this morning. My telephone bell rang several times 
and when I had listened to what several of my members had to 
say to me I had $1,000 promised for your new church and here 
is the pledge." 

The next gentleman to arise was the Jewish Rabbi, Dr. 
Calish : 

"Doctor Hatcher," he said "on behalf of our Beth Ahaba 
Synagogue I take pleasure in tendering to your Grace Street 
Church their building for all your services and your Sunday 
School meetings with coal free and lights free for so long a time 
as you may need or desire it. The destruction of your church 
is a calamity to every man, woman and child in our city." 



386 



A WONDERFUL MEETING 






"Doctor Hatcher," called out Rev. Mr Mercer, pastor of 
the West View Church "Permit a word from a daughter of 
Grace Street Church, — West View. We are building a new 
church and we have already secured $1500 in subscriptions 
from your Grace Street members but I am authorized to 
cancel all these subscriptions from our stricken mother church 
and we will work no further on these subscriptions in Grace 
Street. In addition to this our little church will give at least 
$200 to help you rebuild." 

"I'll have to break up this meeting" said Dr. Hatcher. "It 
is too good." Then holding in his hand a batch of telegrams 
he said: "These are messages of condolence and proffers of 
aid from good people here and elsewhere." After yet others had 
offered the use of their buildings to the Grace Street Church 
he said: "I thought that my people and I were homeless when 
lo, we have never had so many homes in our lives." 

"The gray haired pastor" says the Dispatch "who has 
labored for nearly 21 years with his flock was more than once 
during the meetings almost overcome with emotion." 

"I almost feel" said Dr. Hatcher "that I ought to apologize 
for my people and for myself for being so cheerful under such 
conditions. But we cannot help it so long as we are permitted 
to feast upon the loving kindness of our friends and brethren." 

At the close of the meeting Rabbi Calish said to Dr. Kerr: 

"I have heard that there is no power in the name of Jesus 
and I have often said so myself but I will never say so again, 
for never in all my life have I seen such an impressive religious 
demonstration as I have witnessed this afternoon." 

The Richmond Dispatch said that the fire seemed to have 
"touched the purse strings, as well as the heart strings, of 
every man, woman and child in the city." About fifteen bus- 
iness houses offered to receive offerings for the Church and a 
list of these houses was published in the paper. Several large 
stores announced that they would give a certain percentage 
of their receipts, on a certain day, to the church. The ministers 
of all Denominations, including the Jewish Rabbi, published 



CITY AND STATE SYMPATHETIC 387 

a statement declaring that the fire was a city-wide calamity 
and calling upon all citizens to contribute towards a new 
building. The president of the Baptist General Association 
of the State, Dr. T. S. Dunaway, published an appeal suggesting 
that all the Baptist churches in the state should, on the next 
Sunday, take a collection for the Grace Street Church. Through 
many years Grace Street with her pastor had opened her doors 
and purse to burdened pastors from all parts of the state and 
now the bread, cast upon the waters, was returning. In the 
meantime, he called his building committee together and one 
of their first acts was to present him with a new type writer 
and a new buggy, one having been burned and the other having 
been worn out, He remarked goodnaturedly about this double 
gift that it was not a sentimental thing to do, inasmuch as it 
was apparent that his people wanted him "to be hustling all 
over the country and writing to every body." 

The revival meetings had been moved to the Second Baptist 
Church where they continued every night with Dr. Broughton 
doing the preaching. Several Bibles had been given to Dr. 
Broughton in return for his own Bibles which had been des- 
troyed in the fire. "I would like for someone to send me a new 
supply of sermons, for mine were also burned' ' he facetiously 
remarked one day, whereupon the janitor, who was standing 
near him, said: "Dr. Landrum has got a big, black box full of 
sermons over there — guess he will give you as many of them 
as you want." 

Many such pleasantries were indulged in during the strains 
and sorrows that followed the fire. Dr. Hatcher's sermons were 
also burned and one of the deacons said with an assumed tone 
of satisfaction: "Now that all your old sermons are burned I 
guess we will have some new ones." "My old sermons were 
burned up," quickly replied the pastor, "but my capacity 
for making some more mean sermons was not burned up." 
He told Dr. Broughton that he knew that when the fire struck 
his (Broughton's) sermons it was impossible then to stop the 
flames. "Dr. Broughton rather meanly intimated," says 



388 A HARD CAMPAIGN 

ljy. Dr. Hatcher, "that if the fire got into mine, it was the 

first time they knew what fire was, — or words to that 
effect." • 

Grace Street was rich in invitations from other churches to 
use their buildings. "Our church. . . " said Dr. Hatcher 
"worshipped in thirteen different places and one unsophisti- 
cated boy touched off the situation with unconscious humor 
when he said : 'I was converted at the Second Baptist Church, 
w ; received for Baptism at the First Presbyterian church, bap- 

tized at the Calvary Baptist Church and received the right 
hand of fellowship at the Jewish synagogue.' " 

A gentlemen said that the outburst of kindness constituted 
a new era in the history of christian fellowship. The Grace 
Street people rejoiced in the kindness of their sister churches 
and yet their tramp, Sunday by Sunday, from one church to 
another, in different parts of the city, had its pathetic side. 

Two things were decided upon; — one was to erect a temporary 
Tabernacle and the other to begin, at once, a campaign for a 
new building. 

Looked at in one way, his lot seemed a tragedy. For nearly 
four years of his life he had carried the burden of a building 
campaign, struggling first to enter the Sunday School room and 
later the auditorium of his splendid building and now — not 
long after he had grasped the fruit of his labors — the building 
was swept from him by the heartless flames and another long 
road of church building — this time hard and cheerless — 
stretched before him. One is tempted to exclaim: "Was it 
not a mistake for such a large portion of his life to be employed 
with the mechanical bothers of church building! Multitudes 
of others, less highly endowed, could erect houses; why should 
he, — a preacher, a winner of souls, — tie himself to problems of 
bricks and stone?" But it had to be. He could not disentangle 
himself from the task. It was a part of his work; and he must 
do it all. He did not naturally like such building campaigns. 
He loved to preach and to give himself to the work of the min- 
istry and yet a considerable part of eight of the best years of 



POPULAR WITH THE WORKMEN 389 

his life was taken up with planning for money raising, meeting 
bills, constructing tabernacles and church edifices. 

It must not be overlooked, however, that his church building 
campaigns were a part of his ministry — they were spiritual, 
as well as material, in their nature. If, in his sermons, it was 
the man who spoke the loudest, so, in his financial and building 
undertakings it was the man again that was preaching. His 
marked individuality expressed itself whether he was in the 
pulpit, in a croquet game, in a committee meeting, or in con- 
ferences with the architect, or the carpenter. His good sense, 
his humor, his patience, his honesty, his faith, and many other 
such qualities were ever impressing others as they touched 
him each day. 

The workmen on the building, from the contractor down to 
the lowest laborer, all knew Dr. Hatcher and while they had no 
patience with intruders who came poddering around the struc- 
ture to interfere, or take up their time, yet they always had 
a glad welcome for the pastor. Their eyes would brighten at 
his coming. He was so smart, so intelligent, so genuinely 
interested in each one, talked so much sense to them and seemed 
to have the entire situation so well in hand that they received 
him with respect and loved to talk with him. Things were 
always spicy when he was around and they were put on their 
mettle to hold up their end in the conversation. The Contractor 
who did the stone work on the building, Mr. Netherland, became 
a great friend and admirer of his, and many good natured 
wrangles and genial discussions they had. It was astonishing 
to note to what extent he grasped the principles involved in 
the building operations and how, in all the conferences, he 
seemed to be the master of the situation. 

The building undertaking upon which he was now entering 
was destined to be much more arduous and exacting than the 
former one. The movement for the first building had in it 
a novelty and ardor that was impossible for the second. Such 
incessant activity in matters material of course left him less 
time for his studies and sermon-making and for laboring among 



390 COMMENCING HIS CAMPAIGN 

the weak churches out in the state. The church itself suf- 
fered in its spiritual life. 

"It looks now" writes my mother "as if he will have to endure 
that kind of hardship much of his life. The struggle for the 
old building is not to be compared with the struggle for the 
new one. It is well that he takes his lot as well as he does 
and that he has good health.' ' 

"I am not getting much money these days," he writes. "But 
I hear encouraging things here and there, and that keeps my 
soul from sinking. I have an idea that I can get my people 
up to thirty thousand dollars, but that will require time," 

"Thirty thousand dollars!" For a people who a few days 
before this had been worshipping in property worth about 
$80,000, that sounded almost pathetic. Nearly all offerings 
that could be expected to come in voluntarily from the outside 
had been received and there lay before him a grim and lengthy 
road and none knew better than himself how steep and offtimes 
lonely it would be. But he pressed on with a song in his heart. 
On Monday morning he writes: 

"I went to Manchester last night and preached to a big 
crowd. I did not see any trees loaded down with silver apples 
for my building fund. But it may chance that I may grasp 
a few reluctant dimes over in that town after awhile. 

"Haddon and his friends are to give us a great concert to- 
morrow night. Every one expects hampers of money as the 
result except myself. Such things do not realize the popular 
expectations. 

"I have a comforting note from Josh Levering of Baltimore." 

At a later time Mr. Levering kindly entertained a group of 
Baptist laymen at his home. They were presented to Dr. 
Hatcher who told of the burning of his church and a gift for 
his church came to him as the result of that social gathering 
at Mr. Levering's. 

He was busy now with plans for his new edifice. His church 
was worshiping in their temporary tabernacle. He preached 
in Atlanta and the afternoon newspaper announced on the 



DEPARTURE OF DR. LANDRUM 391 

Bulletin Board at the front that Dr. Hatcher would probably 
be called to Dr. Hawthorne's church. 

On the following Sunday he said to his church that there was 
not enough money or honor outside of Grace Street church to 
attract him and that he never expected to leave them, unless 
he felt that they did not want him. 

He was very fond of showing marked attention to special 
visitors who were stopping for a few days in the city. He 
would call together his friends that they might, with him, do 
honor to such visitors and make a little parade over them. 
For example, he had as guests in his home "the Lathams of 
Georgia", some of his kins-people on his mother's side. Not 
only was he said to resemble his mother, who was a Miss 
Latham, but he said that his brother Harvey inherited the 
traits of the Hatchers while he took his little stock from the 
Latham side. Concerning his visitors, he writes on July 6th: 

"I gave them on Tuesday night what, by a generous con- 
struction, might be called a ' Reception'. Quite a little torrent 
of people were on hand and they seemed to think that life was 
worth living." 

It was at this time that another link dropped out of the chain 
of his Richmond friendships; Dr. W. W. Landrum, with whom 
he had enjoyed royal friendship, accepted a call to Atlanta. 
In writing of his grief over losing him from Richmond he adds : 
"But I never loved a tree, or preacher, but what it was the 
first to fade away, or to accept a call elsewhere, as the case 
might be." Upon receiving the news that he was a grandfather 
he writes: "Well your mother has of course notified you of 
Kate's maternal honors. The subduing dignities of grand- 
fatherhood have caught me at last." 

He entered upon his Fall work with heavily laden shoulders, — 
so much so that he could not visit the Portsmouth Association 
which he always loved to attend. He wrote me: "And so I 
did not get to the Portsmouth Association. There were a whole 
family of new born reasons — a litter of them — for not going. 
But they are too young to be named." 






392 WILLIAM J. BRYAN 

He never flung out his banner as a politician, — in fact, 
never joined their ranks in any way — and yet he took immense 
interest in the political campaigns of the country, and there 
were few spectators who were better informed about the 
election conflicts raging in the country than was he. On 
November 3rd, the nation was to cast its vote for president, — 
Mr. Wm. J. Bryan being one of the candidates. On November 
2nd, he writes me: 

"I am still of the opinion that the plucky and tireless Neb- 
raskan [Mr. Bryan] will be outvoted by a great electoral 
majority. If he is victorious tomorrow, then I will be as cheer- 
ful a man as ever proved to be a false prophet. 

"I feel a great respect for Bryan. He has convictions and is 
evidently sincere in his utterances. His endurance has been 
above any thought I ever had of the limits of human activity. 
He will be a king in defeat. This land will not forget him. My 
lips have never yet said for whom my vote was to be cast and 
they are still dumb. But I have a towering scorn for the man 
who undertakes to put the mark of anarchy on Bryan or the 
stain of immorality on the farmers. The meanest thing done 
in this campaign has been the deeds of the bolters, and even 
Carlisle went to Kentucky to advise the Democrats to vote 
for Breckinridge. " 

He loved to work upon boys, — if they were made of re- 
sponsive material — but sometimes he would strike an impos- 
sibility. He would not waste his time on such cases, as a rule, 
but there was one incorrigible youth at Richmond College in 
whose behalf he persisted. He had promised the father that 
he would turn a friendly side towards his boy. He thus writes 
regarding his experience with him: 

"I am much embarrassed by the case. I am most anxious to be 
a comfort to his father, but the youth has not got the logical 
element in him. His talent for the unexpected is strong and he 
finds happiness in being eccentric. He has a touch of resist- 
fulness in his composition which is apt to turn your effort to 
influence him into a small red flag of defiance. But I am watch- 
ing and hope to get in my work soon. Keep the folks cheerful 
and tell them that time is a great physician, though his pro- 
cesses are decidedly slow." 



THE EDUCATION BOARD 393 

At the meeting of the General Association in November he 
found himself in a spirited and somewhat fiery discussion. One 
of the ministers attacked the Education Board of which Dr. 
Hatcher was president, charging that the Board was not 
careful enough in its selection of young ministers to be aided 
by the Board in their education. The speaker declared that 
some of the young men who were admitted were not up to the 
mark in their qualifications. The attack dropped like a bolt 
out of an April sky and I have seldom seen him so aroused as 
on that occasion, but — as on so many occasions — his humor 
came to his rescue, and also to the rescue of the service. After 
repelling the attack, stating, among other things, that the 
Board had to depend largely upon the churches who sent to 
them these young men with their endorsement, he then let 
himself and his audience down by a humorous conclusion 
which ran somewhat as follows: 

"And besides, suppose we do sometimes take in some rough 
and unpromising material. Let us not be surprised at it. I 
remember that our Lord himself took a lot of young men — 
twelve, if I remember correctly — whom he would aid in their 
ministerial training and what was their quality? A mixed 
lot were they. He had loads of trouble with some of them. 
Peter was an awkward fellow and I doubt whether he would 
pass muster before any of our Education Boards. He was 
wofully rantankerous and gave the Master a world of bother 
but he did not dismiss him on that account. He saw in him 
what the critics did not see." 

"It was worth coming to Richmond to see Dr. Hatcher" says 
a gentleman writing in the Herald about the Association. "He 
was as bouyant as a boy over flowing with vitality, watchful 
of the comfort of the great host, scarcely taking time to eat, or 
sleep, and entering into all the exercises with keenest zest." 

In introducing the versatile and brilliant Dr. J. B. Gambrell, 
of Texas, he said: "Prof. Mitchell has spoken on General 
Education, President Whitsitt on Ministerial Education, — 
and the Lord only knows what the next speaker will talk about." 



394 LETTER TO ORIE 

In December he aids his friend Dr. C. C. Meador of Wash- 
ington in revival meetings, from which place he writes his 
daughter Orie as follows: 

"Washington, D. C., Dec. 3rd, 1896. 

"My Dear Orie, — I thought that I would write you while 
you were in Lynchburg, but laziness triumphed and I didn't. 
I dare say it was well enough not to write until it would be too 
late for you to have the care of replying. My life here seems 
a fraction trivial. I have no sendee in the day and life seems 
wasted when I have no duty to drive its spurs in me from morn- 
ing until night. 

"Washington has attempted to be very chummy with me. 
Invitations to 'stay some' with folks have been various and 
dinners and lunches have sought me. I have not been overly 
responsive. I have loved the repose and freedom of my ap- 
pointed home. 

"Washington fairly glitters with Christmas beauties. Now 
and then I vote my eyes a little chance to look at the windows 
and a desire burns in me to buy trunks of things to take home. 
But I speedily remember that I am now working for my build- 
ing fund and with no out-look for personal chink and I call 
in my roving eyes and resume my position in Poverty's vale 
(excuse this feeble nicker of sentiment). 

"There are three old maids, — sisters of Mrs. Dr. 's — 

in the house and they are positively charming. I am about 
to decide that it is better for girls not to marry, but take care 
of themselves, and take care of their worthless old fathers as-well 
as a certain young Vassar woman of my acquaintance is doing. 

"I am belabored to stay over another week in Washington, but 
I think that my two eyes, by the mercy of the Lord, will see 
the City of the Seven Hills about 2:30 on Saturday afternoon. 
I am quite willing to peep into "608" and see how the machine 
is moving. 

"I have defaced many pages with the froth of my thoughts 
and it is high time that I was doing, at least, one sensible 
thing — which will be the speedy ending of this sapless pro- 
duction. 

"Yours, "W. E. H." 

In the next letter he gives a bird's-eye view of his Christmas 
travels. He was overflowing with happy spirits and scattered 
pleasure as he swung around the circle: 



CHRISTMAS WEEK 395 

"January 4th, 1897. 

"My Dear E, — I had quite a proud week of it. Monday 
afternoon I careered to Skinquarter [Chesterfield Co.] and held 
forth in the afternoon to a goodly turn-out of the faithful. 
Williams dined me with becoming pomp and the Rudds gave me 
a fine supper. Tuesday morning Williams drove me in state 
to Tomahawk and I preached at noon to a house nearly full. 

"There W.mfree took me up and escorted me to his castle 
where I refreshed myself with a night's rest. Wednesday 
morning found me at home and at noon that day your mother 
and I ran up to Gwathmey to a Sunday School display where 
we were the pets of a grateful community. That night I had 
my prayer meeting. 

"Thursday morning found me enroute for Sterling Heights 
[his new country home, afterwards called Careby Hall], 
The youthful Ellis received me with many kindly demons- 
trations at Bremo and drove me to the Fork under whip and 
lash. I found that an imposing Christmas dining was under 
way and Dr. George, his household, Uncle Markell and ever 
so many others, including odds and ends of the rising genera- 
tion, were on hand. I found myself immensely tickled, — 
so to speak, to find myself so much thought of by nice people. 
I remained until Friday evening and got home to find "608" 
ablaze with a frail blow-out in honor of our frisky debu- 
tantes. I sat up-stairs during the show, sneezed with a newly 
arrived bad cold, toasted my feet and felt that Christmas was 
over with Brer Hatcher." 

He went to Granville, Ohio., to hold a revival campaign. 
From Columbus, — while enroute to Granville, — he writes Orie : 

"Columbus, Ohio, Jan. 12th, 1897. 
"My Dear Orie, — I am now anxiously engaged in choosing 
a new title for you — one that will adequately set forth your 
glories as a lunch fixer. At first I thought that Luncheonness 
would meet the emergency but as I did not wish Society to 
regard you as an incarnated luncheon of the female persuasion 
I gave that up. But I have not yet recovered from the feeling 
of being a very largely incarnated lunch which I had after 
devouring the excellent viands which you furnished me for my 
journeying mercies. I have not struck a fitting name. There 
is an audacious bite to the Ohio atmosphere. I find solitude 
a rich delight today. It serves to compose me and I trust 



IE 



396 GRANVILLE, OHIO 

it will rest my inward forces for the grave and arduous duties 
which are waiting for me at Granville. I am now going to 
take a peep at the Ohio Legislature. 

"Yours, "W. E. H." 

On his arrival at Granville he writes to his two youngest 
daughters, Edith and Elizabeth: 

"I enjoin upon you not to sit up too late. I am going to 
study the ways of the Ohio girls, and if I find any good points, 
I will bring them home for family purposes. It is my ambition 
for you to be such lofty characters that you may be pointed 
to as examples for others. This you are both capable of, and 
you must aspire to it. I hope to see you shine in the social 
circle to which you are to belong. Cultivate that quiet and 
modest dignity without which no woman is ever truly respected. 
B.e more anxious to say sensible than funny things. Men dread 
a funny woman and hate a critical woman. A modest wit, 
which is spontaneous and unconscious and does not furnish 
its own applause, is beautiful. 

"But I must not lecture my young Debs. They are too full 
of energy and hope to endure solemn doctrine. Be happy and 
write to me." 

Regarding his stopping over at Columbus, he writes: 

"I spent yesterday at Columbus. The pastor and one of the 
deacons of the First Church called on me. They gave me a pleas- 
ant shock by telling me that a remark which I made to the pastor 
last June, when I was out here, had led them to sell their old 
church, build them a tabernacle and to purchase a lot and begin 
the erection of a new house. They expect to have the new house 
ready by next Autumn and desired a promise from me that I 
would dedicate it for them. I felt glad to know that my words 
had at least done one good thing." 

He referred to the town of Granville — on the day before 
reaching the town — as "the scene of my impending agony." 
The words describe his keen solicitude about the approaching 
meetings. To his daughter Orie he wrote: 

"Few know what deep anxieties fill a minister's soul when 
he begins a work of the kind to which I go. Even the making 



THE GRANVILLE MEETINGS 397 

and preaching of a sermon, on a common occasion, is a strain 
which few even think of and yet under which every conscient- 
ious man suffers and when a man finds him self called to master 
a great occasion — with varied and countless obstacles in the 
way — he must desire solitude and get it. 

"But let me not be too serious. You might suspect that I 
have struggles within, and against such self exposures I have 
ever fought. I know what it is to tread the wine press alone." 

He nearly always had pangs and wrestlings of soul at the 
beginning of his revival campaigns. His evangelistic meetings 
were battles in which he plotted against the devil's forces, 
and aimed for a big victory at the final onset. Such a victory — 
rich and complete — came at Granville. At first the conflict 
was heavy. On the 22nd he wrote me: 

"The leaders of the Devil's host are not yet ready to run up 
the white flag. I am in great agony about the fate of our work 
at the University. The interest there is immense, but the 
opposition, while respectful and good mannered, is hard to 
subdue. I stay over Sunday and am in for a general charge 
on the Devil's Towers." 

On the 25th he writes to Orie : "Yesterday was thrilling. The 
ringleaders of sin in the University came out last night." 
When the end came it was estimated that the number of con- 
versions was about 250 and the closing scenes were pentecostal. 
But this triumph came only after a hard fought campaign. 

"For nearly a week" he writes "I beat the air without a 
convert, without a tear and with nature's thermometer at 
about fifteen below zero and the thermometer of grace, a good 
deal lower. I almost believe that I would have been requested 
to leave, if there had been enough vitality in the meeting to 
organize public sentiment on that point." 

In his meetings the storm was usually slow in gathering. 
His greatest meetings contained climaxes when the spiritual 
forces seemed suddenly to culminate. In the Granville 
campaign, after the first week of apparently vain effort, he 
writes: "Tonight was a spiritual cloudburst and shook things 



398 A PRESENT FROM THE UNIVERSITY 



to the center. It was the first call that I had made for demon- 
strations and it was great. The outlook is wonderfully fine 
and my soul is full of hope. If I am not mistaken the Lord 
has great things for us in store." When Dr. Hatcher left 
Granville the president of the University said to him: "Dr. 
Hatcher our University wishes to present you with some special 
token of our high appreciation ; tell us what it shall be" . "Noth- 
ing for myself," replied Dr. Hatcher, "but I will mention a 
gift that I will accept and that is a scholarship, in your Univer- 
sity, for a bright needy boy in Virginia. The result was that 
a Fluvanna County young man, the son of a parents who were 
struggling with great sacrifices to educate their many boys, 
went to Denison University for his education, and last session 
this same young man, now an accomplished christian scholar, 
was at the head of an institution of learning in Florida. 



CHAPTER XXXI 

1897 



THOUGHTFULNESS OF OTHERS. VARIED JOURNEYS AND LABORS. 

REVIVAL MEETINGS AT TOLEDO, OHIO. EXALTATION OF THE 

SUPERNATURAL. 

He took a dip into the metaphysical waters at this time. He 
delivered an address at Richmond College on the "The Ex- 
perimental Evidences of Christianity' ' in which he discussed 
the subject from the scientific rather than the popular point 
of view. In his public discourses he did not usually venture 
into the philosophical field. Not that his thinking was super- 
ficial. In fact, in preaching he went to the bottom of his 
text and of his theme; but he generally chose the simpler 
and the popular forms of expression. He would compass the 
subject in his own thinking, would view it in its relations and 
could have easily clothed his thoughts in scholarly and meta- 
physical garb, and this he would occasionally do — as in the 
case of his above mentioned address before the College. But the 
bulk of his speech was not after this fashion. His audiences 
were generally cosmopolitan and he selected the simple, and 
ofttimes pictorial method of address. The consequence was 
that he was understood by the unlearned and by the children. 
A little boy, in another city, who had complained that he 
never liked to listen to his mother's pastor because he could 
never understand what he was talking about came home one 
Sunday night after Dr. Hatcher had preached and said "Oh, 
mother I could understand every word that Dr. Hatcher said" 
He thus writes: "To study a subject to its core, dig up every- 

399 



400 RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS 

thing about it down to its roots and subject the result to a dis- 
criminating study, picking out the salient points, putting it in 
strong and vital words, having as your governing principle in 
its delivery the application of its doctrines straight home to 
all hearts, — that is no light task but that is the preaching 
that will so impress the people that it will make the children 
listen." 

His Richmond College address showed that he could subject 
a great theme to a comprehensive analysis and could play the 
scholar and the scientist. In fact it would be difficult to tell, 
whether he was greater in brain or in heart. His life was so 
full of kindness that we are tempted in describing him, to 
say that he was a man of great soul and to forget that it could 
be said with equal truth of him that he was a man of great 
intellect. , There was both quickness and poise in his mental 
activities. His field of vision was clear and large. He had the 
power of seeing a thing not only in itself but in its wide re- 
lations, and his many bright sayings were due to his ability 
to see relationships which lay beyond the ordinary range of 
vision. Dr. Masters says "Probably Southern Baptist have 
not produced a richer personality than his. We are sure that 
we have not produced one who combined in himself at once 
more of the elements of intellectual greatness and catholicity 
in his affections." His mind suffered very little waste by self 
consciousness, or introspection. It focussed its energies on the 
subject in hand and worked with singular independence. The 
reader has been kept waiting at the door of the College address 
that he might be reminded, in the above digresssion, that 
this book is the story of a great mind as well as of a great heart. 

The College address came in a series of addresses in which 
Dr. Moses D. Hoge, one of the most distinguished Presbyterian 
ministers of the South, was one of the speakers. A brilliant 
audience, drawn from the College circles and from the city 
of Richmond greeted the speaker of the evening. 

"It was the crowning address of his life," writes my mother. "I 
never knew him to bestow more pains or to deliver a speech bet- 



RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS 401 

ter. He was thoroughly himself, was at ease and had perfect com- 
mand of his subject. Many of the preachers came up to express 
themselves very strongly in favor of it. Drs. Mitchell, Nelson, 
RylaDd and Boatwright said to him and to me that it was the 
best of the series — as far as argument and real thought were 

concerned. Dr. had more learning and eloquence, 

Prof. M said, but your father's more argument and a 

better line of treatment — showed more original thinking. 

"It produced a great impression. Dr. Ryland sent me some 
flowers from the platform with a note saying that he sent it in 
appreciation of his admirable address." 

Regarding the address he thus writes me: 

"My College performance did not satisfy me by a bow's 
shot but I atleast got to the end and possibly some thought 
that I came near never accomplishing that. But I did get 
through. My audience was not big but the night was suf- 
ficiently grim and threatening to explain any empty seats that 
were around. Of course the regulation handshake and the smile 
of approval came to time at the close, but I did not apply the 
thermometer to ascertain the warmth of the congratulations. 
Men like Mitchell, Boatwright and Winston were frank enough 
to say that mine was the fairest of the addresses — it recognized 
the sincerity of the objector and sought to convert him. It 
treated doubt as a friend and not as an enemy. 

"My church surprised me yesterday morning by requesting 
me to repeat the address in the Tabernacle next Sunday night 
and I have consented to do so. I think it is intended to make 
it a sort of high night in our wigwam." 

There have been found among his papers three separate 
manuscripts of this address, — each of them showing his cara- 
fulness in preparation. That the reader may gain an idea as 
to his method of working upon his sentences, I quote here his 
opening paragraph as it apperared in his three manuscripts. 

In the first manuscript: 

"The object of this paper is to deal with the experimental 
evidences of Christianity. It is intended to take the unbeliever 
into the workshop of the Nazarene and invite him to examine 
the productions of his skill. It has been prepared with the 
desire atleast of bringing out the phenomena of the truly 
christianized soul and subjecting it to critical examination." 



402 RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS 

In the second manuscript: 

"Tonight I am to invite this audience to turn their thoughts 
to the Tree of Life and to study the manner of fruit which 
it bears. We will visit the workshop of the Nazarene Car- 
penter and examine the products of his skill. We will arrest 
those who wear the insignia of the gospel and, putting them on 
the stand, require them to declare to us what the Lord has done 
for their souls." 

This second paragraph is a distinct advance upon the first. 
The first is the speech of the scientist. He simply says that his 
discourse will critically examine "the phenomena of the truly 
christianized soul." That is sufficient for an audience of scien- 
tists. But the speaker will face a different audience and so in the 
second manuscript the scientist turns artist and uses his brush 
to paint the same thought, as he asks his audience to look upon 
the Tree of life and upon the Christian on the witness stand. 
But even this did not satisfy the speaker and so he brings out 
his brush again. 

In the third manuscript: 

"Tonight we are to gaze upon the Tree of Life and observe 
what manner of fruit it bears. We are to enter the spiritual 
workshop of the Nazarene and examine the productions of his 
skill. We must apprehend those who wear the insignia of the 
Gospel, hale them to the bar and require them to tell what God 
has done for their souls. In plainer terms we are to invade the 
secresies — the penetralia — of the christian soul, collect the 
phenomena of its new life and give to them a candid and critical 
examination." 

He next states the plan of his address: 

"First we must fix definitely what we mean by Christianity; 
next we must ascertain the process by which Christianity 
enters the soul and finally, and chiefly, we must study the 
result of the Gospel's entrance into union with the soul and 
determine its evidential value in favor of the truth of Chris- 
tianity." 

First, he defines Christianity as "a religion (unfolded in the 
Bible) which reveals God in his majesty, truth and justice; 



RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS 403 

man in his moral and spiritual wreck and peril; Jesus Christ 
in his compassion, becoming the Sacrifice and Savior of the 
people. This religion is called Christianity and the history 
which brings it to us is called the gospel. " 

Secondly, he considers the process by which the gospel 
enters the soul : 

"The gospel moves upon the soul with the majestic courage 
of an invading army. It sets itself down at the gateway of the 
soul and demands admission. But it does not storm the gates 
and force its way. How then does it get in?" 

He declares that it enters the soul in the act of repentance 
and faith. Repentance he defines as: "a sober and deliberate 
decision to turn away from all sin and that, out of respect for 
the will and honor of God." 

Faith he defines as: "that edict of the will requiring the 
gates of the soul to be opened for the admission of the gospel 
and it is done at the suggestion of the heart." 

Thirdly, he considers the evidential value of this christian 
experience and he proceeds to show that Christianity can 
stand the most rigid scientific test. He points to the fruits of 
Christianity as seen in a regenerated heart as proof of the truth 
of Christianity. Christianity, he says, shows what it is by 
what it does in the human soul. He next enters the field of 
christian experience, calls upon christians to tell what God 
has done for their souls, and this testmony of Christians is the 
scientific phenomena with which to build up the proof in favor 
of Christianity. The new heart and life, the new motives, the 
new ideals, the new spirit, the new joy and love — these, says 
the speaker, are the scientific data upon which to construct 
the evidence. 

It is true, says the speaker, that the only witnesses to this data 
are the adherents of the religion but regarding these witnesses 
he says: 

"Rank them as average men and women and gauge 
their testimony accordingly and remember that the testimony 
borne by christians as to their inner experiences of the power 



I 



404 RICHMOND COLLEGE ADDRESS 

of the gospel is rendered doubly impressive by its harmony, 
identity and spontaneity. . . It is testimony from dif- 
ferent classes, from various countries, from long separated 
ages and yet it bears witness to the very same spiritual pheno- 
mena. . . In this testimony there is included the testimony 
of millions who had to repudiate their experiences or seal them 
with their lives and some of them in moments of fear recanted 
and were set free and then, with the revived sense of God's 
saving power, returned to their persecutors, reaffirmed their 
faith and freely died for their Redeemer." 

He then declares that an un regenerate scientist cannot pass 
upon these spiritual phenomena. He may subject to the 
microscope his physical material; he may try the experiences 
of the mind by psycological tests, but he must have the spirit- 
ual eye to detect and pass upon spiritual phenomena. Spiritual 
things are spiritually discerned. The scientist objects to this. 

" 'Oh'; says the objector, 'you ask me to be interested in an 
unknown world. I know nothing of the spiritual world'. True; 
but your ignorance does not prove that there is no such world. 
America was long an unknown world and men were actually 
burned for believing there was such a world. In spite of the 
unbelief of some men, there is a spiritual world, and some may 
be burned for not believing it. 

"In the spiritual Kingdom the christian is the expert and the 
scientist is the layman. The christian has been experimenting 
with the gospel and has tested its principles and has just as 
much right to claim a hearing from the scientist on religion as 
the scientist has to claim a hearing from the christian on 
science. Why should they have strife. They are brethren. 

"The Gospel challenges trial. Almost the first public word 
that fell from Jesus' lips was 'Come and see'. The gospel hands 
us its records, with its history, its doctrines and principles and 
asks us to examine them. If a man has a new plough, let 
him not lecture on ploughing, but let him plough. If a man 
has a flying machine let him not carry it to an exposition but let 
him get in and fly and then he may invite others to ride with 
him. . . Never was a more profound or scientific word ever 
spoken than that of Jesus when he said that if any man will 
do his will that he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of 
God. 



"CAREBY HALL" 405 

"I stand tonight as one of the crew on the deck of the old ship 
of Zion and throw out the gang-board and invite you to come on. 
She has felt the blow of many a mad wave; she has been tossed 
by many a gale, but she has never missed a connection, nor 
lost a passenger. As our fathers used to sing. 'She has landed 
many thousands and can land as many more.' " 

On March 12th my mother writes me: 

"Your father has been more than usually concerned about 
the conversion of the people lately. I see with great satis- 
faction a great difference in him in his spirit while building this 
church from what it was in rearing the other one. Then he 
thought and talked so much about the building. Now he talks 
little about that and talks as much more about the work the 
church ought to do. He preached a rousing sermon yesterday 
morning to the young men about taking the old ones' places — 
said the number of old ones was so very small — hardly any gray 
heads. 

"Another thing that agitates the mind of '608 W. Grace 
St.' is 'what shall be the name of our country home?' Careby 
is the name of the ancestral home of the Hatchers in England. 
Some say 'Careby Hall'; others say 'Melrose Heights', 'Hatcher 
Castle', 'Ivy Castle', etc. What say you? Your father likes 
'Sterling Heights' ; not many others do." 

"Careby Hall" was the name finally chosen. He thus writes 
about his new home: 

"I expect to go to Fork Union next Thursday to see the 
foundation laid for that ever grand villa of which the papers 
talk so impressively and so impertinently." 

His orphan boy, Coleman, was still living in his home and was 
attending Richmond College. He wrote him from Wake 
Forest College where he was holding his second revival cam- 
paign : 

"Dear Coleman, — My heart is full of tenderness for you 
and I long to see you become a strong and faithful young man. 
I am sensitively anxious for you to do well. . . I must learn 
to be more patient with you. . There is much in you to 
please me and to excite my hope in your future. 

"Your faithful friend, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 



406 THOUGHTFULNESS OF OTHERS 

With pen and hand and tongue he was busy during these 
Spring days and while his pastorate claimed him for most of his 
time yet he was ever and anon running out into the state 
to perform some ministerial service. Regarding his building 
campaign, he writes: "The workmen hover around me in a 
manner which terrifies me unless I can soothe them with a 
check." 

In arranging for his trip on May 5th to Wilmington, N. C, to 
attend the meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention a 
little incident occured that showed his thoughtfulness of others. 
He told his daughter to prepare a large luncheon — enough for 
many persons. He knew that the coaches would be filled 
with ministers enroute for the Convention and when the lunch 
hour arrived on the train he opened up his large box of eatables 
and acted as host for a goodly circle of preachers who "lunched 
with Dr. Hatcher that day." His thoughtfulness of others 
showed itself not only in giving pleasure to those around him 
but also in giving encouragement and comfort. For example, 
Rev. W. W. Reynolds says that one Summer he made a speech 
on Home Missions at a district Association when Dr. Hatcher 
was in the audience. A few days afterwards Mr. Reynolds' 
father received a letter from Dr. Hatcher telling of his pleasure 
in hearing his son speak so well on Home Missions at the 
Association. Mr. Reynolds says the letter was couched in such 
kindly phrase that it greatly cheered his father. He was re- 
turning with a train load of ministers and laymen from the 

meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention at and 

one of the brilliant young professors at the Seminary 

had recently died. It was a great shock to all and Dr. Hatcher 
engineered a little collection among the delegates in the cars 
to purchase a watch to present to the stricken widow as a 
token to her of their deep sympathy. "Oh, that Dr. Hatcher 
were living; he would know how to console us," said a parent 
soon after his death. The parent had just had a son and 
daughter killed in an automobile accident. 

He went to Wilmington to the Southern Baptist Convention 



"THE HOME COMING" 407 

where he said he was exhausted almost "to the point of 
collapse" by the heavy denominational burdens that were upon 
him, chief of which was the "Whitsitt Controversy", which 
matter will be considered at a later time. He delivered the 
Commencement Address at Georgetown College in Kentucky 
the first part of June, his subject being "The Road Builders," 
One of his striking statements in the address was: "The public 
highway is the work of the pathfinder brought to perfection." 

Mr. Henry Schmelz, of Hampton, writes: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — Of course whatever we may have 
done or shall do in the future for the Orphanage the privilege 
of so doing will be attributable and due to you. On second 
thought I have determined to send the picture [portrait of 
his wife] to Richmond College in your care." 

He was elected at this time to succeed Dr. J. L. M. Curry 
as president of the Board of Trustees of Richmond College. 
He went to Brooklyn to speak at the funeral of Dr. F. M. 
Ellis. In closing his address he looked down upon the cofhn 
that contained the sleeping dust of his beloved friend and in 
tender tones, which those who heard him will not easily forget, 
he said: "Good bye, Frank; we'll meet again in the morning." 

Later in his life he wrote a book of reminiscences in which 
the last chapter was entitled "the Home Coming", — which 
has been pronounced a classic. In this chapter he paints the 
picture of a plain, little country home at Moseley's Junction, 
in Chesterfield County and of the joy of the mother every year 
over the home coming of her railroad boys for the Christmas 
reunion, and of the immense preparations, by that mother, 
in the kitchen weeks beforehand for that glad season. I was 
with him on that day when the old man, Mr. Lloyd Phaup, told 
us the simple, but thrilling story of the Christmas home coming, 
as we walked up the track from his little engine house to his 
home. Several years had now passed since that visit, and the 
Christmas home coming of those days could never again be 
repeated. 



408 ASSOCIATION AT ROANOKE 

"By the way" he writes me on July 5th "old Lloyd Phaup at 
Moseley's lost his wife — a fearful loss to him. It occured quite 
a while ago but a word to him would be balm. It is too hot to 
visit but you can write consoling notes." 

Many were the "consoling notes" which, during his long life, 
he sent to those in trouble. 

"Thousands of things press upon me" he writes his wife on 
October 4th, and on October 27th, he writes me: 

"Here I am happy, poor, in debt and waiting for good 
weather." 

He sets his heart on seeing two young preachers at Roanoke 
at the meeting of the General Association, and thus writes 
to one of these (Rev. R. H. Winfree) on Nov. 14th: 

"My Peerless Robert, — I am just from Brookneal. Spent 
two nights with John B. Williams and we fairly talked the 
buttons off your waistcoat. He longs to see you and is going 
to Roanoke. There you must be also. I am writing Baker to 
bulge your pocket with some of Uncle Sam's best loose change. 
Get into your collar and go. I long to see you. 

"Very Lovingly, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

He attended the meeting of the General Association in Roanoke 
in November and at such meetings he was pulled about by the 
brethren for all manner of purposes, — to secure his champion- 
ship for their cause before the Association, to gain his counsel 
regarding a resolution, or some problem in their pastorate, to 
engage him for a lecture or a meeting or a dedication; many 
simply wanted the pleasure of grasping his hand and having 
an effectionate chat with him. "I am working my soul and 
body to pieces" he writes his wife from Roanoke. "I start 
to Ohio this afternoon." 

This Ohio trip meant another meeting in that state, — this 
time at Toledo. He stopped at Granville, the scene of his 
glorious meetings of the preceeding winter, and preached at the 
University, "The pleasures of that reunion" he writes "amoun- 



TOLEDO MEETINGS 409 

ted to rapture and the whole morning took on the form of a 
spontaneous reception." 

He began his Toledo meetings with the pastor Dr. Emory 
W. Hunt and wrote that he commenced with "a mountain of 
anxiety" on his heart, and on the Sunday he writes: "I was 
really never is such an agony of concern and anxiety." An 
interesting climax came to his meetings. Up to Sunday Dec- 
cember 7th it had seemed impossible to dislodge the uncon- 
verted and so critical seemed the situation that far away in 
Richmond the Grace Street Church was asked at the Sunday 
morning service to make special prayer for the meeting in 
Toledo. That night the following telegram was read to the 
Grace Street congregation: 

"Toledo, Ohio, Dec. 7th. 
"Thirty conversions this morning — many heads of families. 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

In writing about that Sunday he said: "We had one day of 
Pentecostal glory in Toledo and the people trembled under 
the touch of God's finger." 

Who can explain the wonderful manifestations in such 
meetings? It was not the enthusiasm awakened by his sermons. 
He would ofttimes preach his greatest sermons without such 
manifestations. In fact, he would discourage mere emotional 
outbursts. It was the power from Heaven which he always 
waited for in his meetings, — a power that would show itself 
among the people and instead of seeking to produce it by his 
preaching he seemed to feel that until the power came his 
preaching — even his best — would be unavailing. I have already 
written of how at the close of the first service in a revival meet- 
ing in Chesterfield when his congregation seemed wrought up 
with great emotion, he let the emotion spend itself rather than 
avail himself of it. He seemed to think that while that expres- 
sion of holy feeling was good yet there was something higher 
and better which had not yet come upon them and which 
he hoped would come. In speaking about religious sentimen- 



410 EXALTATION OF THE SUPERNATURAL 

talism he said: "Sentimentalism is an excess of feeling and the 
riot of passion. Sentimentalism has played a disastrous part 
in the christian world. It has filled our churches with a religion 
of feeling. It has drifted us often to folly and fanaticism. It 
has made our revivals consist in excitement, our enterprises 
to depend on our humors and our gifts to hang upon our im- 
pulses." Finally in his Toledo meeting the heavenly power 
came and he thus writes: 

"People trembled under the touch of God's finger. A lady and 
gentlemen, who were present, not members of the church, 
walked away afterwards, she saying that she felt profoundly 
and distinctly that the power of God was on the people, and 
he criticizing the meeting most bitterly and yet confessing 
that he was compelled to hold to the pew with all his might 
to keep from going forward. It looked as if at the close of the 
sermon a holy breeze from the hills of the heavenly Canaan 
blew down upon the people and the effect was simply inde- 
scribable. Almost instantly men and women, many of them 
heads of families, began to push out into the aisles of the church 
and to stream down to the front. One gentleman, as if Satan 
was making his last struggles to hold him — a man known 
throughout the city and held in deserved esteem — vowed that 
morning never to take any public stand for Christ and declared 
that if any one spoke to him he would leave the church never 
to return. He was about the first to take the offered hand of a 
friend and come out for his Lord and Redeemer. 

"The church stood in awful silence and with faces wet with 
unwiped tears they saw the sight. From that time we had a 
new atmosphere. People spoke a new language. They sang 
with a new fervor; they were clothed with a new strength and 
found it easy to put aside business or pleasure for the Master's 
work." 

Such was the power for which he waited while he preached 
and prayed. If I were asked to name one of his greatest con- 
tributions to the times in which he lived I would be tempted to 
say it was his exaltation of the supernatural in revival meetings. 
His appeal was to the God of battles. His meetings were 
triumphs of divine grace and monumental witnesses of the 
fact that in this modern day, as well as in the olden time, the 



TOLEDO 411 

power of God's regenerating grace was at the disposal of his 
people. It is hardly possible for the human heart to reach 
much loftier heights of ecstasy than marked some of these 
" climax" days in his meetings. With mothers and wives 
rejoicing over the conversion of their sons and husbands; with 
christians tasting afresh the joys of their heavenly hopes; 
with salvation flowing like a river in their midst and with the 
peace of God filling their souls with light and joy — Ah it was 
a foregleam of heavenly happiness and many were the days in 
his long life when he stood on such mountain peaks. 

He writes an account of his Toledo meetings in the Herald 
closing with a reference to his return to Richmond from Toledo : 

"When on Tuesday morning the frozen souled porter on the 
sleeper shook me out of my morning repose and ordered me, — 
as only a porter can, — to 'dress' and I ran up my curtain to get 
a glimpse of the sacred soil and heard the conductor on the 
outside cry out 'Ashcake' [a station near Richmond] I felt 
that I was getting home. That word 'Ashcake' got my exact 
range. It told of childhood and reminded me of my raising. 
It quietly lifted me down from the glory of 'dining out' and 
sobered me up for the impending realities." 

He had left a part of his heart in Toledo, — as is seen from 
the following letter to the Toledo pastor, Dr. E. W. Hunt, 
which he wrote after he reached home. 

"Richmond, Va., Dec. 14th, 1897. 

"My Dear Brother Hunt, — I struck Richmond on time 
and received quite a radiant welcome from my home tribe. I 
found the weather of the most dismal character, though it is 
honest weather. It does not practice deceptions on us as the 
Toledo weather did. It has set up to be bad and is doing it. 

"The wedding occurs at 6 P. M. to day and is to be quite 
imposing. Owing to the cruelty of the trains the bridal pair 
will depart before the supper is served. I am pleased that the 
blissful couple will leave me and the supper behind. It is my 
purpose to keep myself and the supper together so far as it is 
practicable. 

"But nonsense, — I would trade off six marriage suppers for 
one moment in Ashland Avenue with the loved ones I left there. 



412 LETTER TO DR. E. W. HUNT 

I called on Dr. Lasher [at a stop over in Cincinnatti] yesterday 
morning and he gave me a charming welcome. At the pastors' 
Conference I was reduced to conscious shame by the prepos- 
terous manner in which they lionized me. They dragged me out 
for a speech and I added one more failure to my great record 
as a failure maker. 

"But I was sincerely grateful for such consideration and it 
must in part have been accorded me in view of the fact that I 
had been with you. It was delightful to hear the commendatory 
things said about you. You are making a good name in Ohio 
and I expect you to keep it up. I did not do my usual amount 
of sleeping on the train and am today in a limp and frazzled 
state. Sunday night I was wakeful most of the night and I 
was not sorry for it gave me the opportunity to call the roll of 
the converts and how happy I was to find that my memory 
carried so many of them. Then, too, I turned my thoughts back- 
wards and what troops of the brethren and sisters reappeared 
before me and I greeted them in spirit over and over again. 
"At breakfast this morning they drew me into talk about 
the meeting. My wife suddenly exclaimed: 'Why, how on 
earth do you remember so many?' I could have said that it 
was easy to remember those you love. 

"Of course I had to describe, with a particularity which a 
woman would require, you and your domestic treasures and 
when I finished I think that the impression was that I had 
been staying with quite a fine family of people. 

"But this is enough at this time. You and your church are 
enshrined in my heart. My thoughts will abide with you. 

"Fraternally Yours, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

" P. S. — As I failed to get this letter into the mail, I will 
exercise a woman's right and add a few other feeble remarks. I 
had my wedding tonight and it was first class. The occasion 
was really brilliant and — (excuse me) the fee was $20. After 
a royal supper I came to my church and had a delightful re- 
ception. Great interest was evinced in the Toledo meeting 
and what pleased me greatly not a word was said as to the 
economic aspects of my trip. I love for my folks to be tasteful 
and to know how to do the neat thing." 

But there was another member of Dr. Hunt's household that 
Dr. Hatcher carried in his heart and that was Dr. Hunt's 
little daughter, Harriet. 



LITTLE HARRIETT HUNT 413 

"It was characteristic of Dr. Hatcher to write this fine 
letter to my four year old daughter/' says Dr. Hunt in sending 
the letter: 

"My Dear Little Harriet, — It hurts me to think that you 
are 800 big miles away from me. I would just delight to sit 
by you at the table and give you a few, sly hugs. You were 
very good to me while I was at your house and I am going to tell 
my friends about it. Some of these days you may come to 
Richmond and then I will see if I cannot be good to you. If 
they have "noodles" at any time you must eat some of them 
for me. 

"I expect you to write to me soon after Christmas and tell 
me all about Santa's visit and also what he brought you. Tell 
them at home that they must treat you well, or I will ride up 
there some pleasant moonlight night and bring you to Richmond. 
If I had you it would be fine, but as I cannot get you I will love 
you anyhow. Give 'Uncle' my best regards and also Helen. She 
is a storming fine girl and she must not forget me. 

"Your loving friend, 

"Dr. Hatcher." 



CHAPTER XXXII 

1898 

DR. C. C. MEADOR. THE WHITSITT CONTROVERSY. THE BAPTISTS 

The year 1898 found him crowded with varied engagements. 
They kept him hurrying hither and thither with but little 
time for studying and consequently his preaching — so his wife 
thought — suffered under the strain. After writing to me of a 
"red letter day" which he had at his church on Sunday January, 
Oth, a day of glorious experiences she continues : 

"The effect on the church was marked. Something out 
of the line has to take place like that in a church every once 
and a while to get it out of the ruts. Being out of his study so 
long, he was showing that he was lagging behind in his sermons 
and I ventured so to indicate to him — I never like to hint to 
him anything uncomplimentary. I nearly always tell him how 
I enjoy his preaching and say all the good things I can about 
the sermon — it pleases him. But I must be just to him. I 
cannot bear the thought of his not keeping up to high water 
mark. And so he said he felt he was not getting on well ser- 
monizing and the effort to recover himself brought on this 
renaissance, so to speak, of last Sunday. It was a great day 
and I am thankful for it. I dont care to what height a preacher 
attains, he must study — he must have some new idea each 
time. One great central thought well illuminated will satisfy 
the hungry christian. " 

He went this month for meetings with Dr. Henry Colby at 
his church in Dayton, Ohio, and at the end of three weeks he 
writes : 

"I have preached between thirty and forty sermons . . 
The joy has rarely ever been greater to me. The meeting at 

414 



SUDDEN DEATH 415 

the First Church has not had the bound and triumphant 
movement of some that I have seen. It has not accomplished 
all that we have been praying for but it has achieved wonders." 

The following letter from my mother on February 17th, 
closed with a significant statement, — the significance of which 
will appear later in this chapter: 

"Your father has loads upon loads of Board work on his 
shoulders — much of it exasperating — so much personalism, 
favoritism to be combatted at every turn — that it makes it 
hard, doubly hard, to direct or control affairs. And all that 
has to be conned, and thought over and over. I hope you 
will never be so heavily burdened, though I want you to make 
yourself felt in the denomination by doing helpful work. It 
takes an iron will and an iron constitution to bear what he has 
to bear. At this moment he is in conference with Dr. Whitsitt 
at Ford's. He telegraphed him to meet him there at ten o'clock 
today. 

He spoke at the funeral of a preacher who had shortly 
before his death watched many days at the dying bedside of 
his son. He said: 

"It seems to me that watching with his boy our brother went 
so far toward eternity that he never came back. He was never 
the same man. He caught a glimpse through the gates that 
opened for his son and his longing heart took one leap and he 
was gone." 

That paragraph contains a picture of death that he seemed 
fond of. It is seen in the words "took one leap and was gone." 
He in after years referred to his brother Harvey dying in that 
fashion and it was the manner in which he himself wished to go. 
It was not merely the idea of dying suddenly, but far above 
that was the thought of going with a leap and bound; going 
straight from the harvest field into the presence of his Master. 

He had a sympathetic interest in the colored preachers of the 
old stripe, and showed it in many ways. He delivered an 
address before the Baptist Social Union of Philadelphia in the 
Spring on "The Colored Preacher of ante bellum days." 



416 DR. C. C. MEADOR 

Speaking of Dr. Thornhill of Manchester he writes to me 
on April 17th: 

"I miss him like forty when he is out of town for he is one 
of my abounding consolations. He is a great fountain of 
pleasure to me. I am now training Mercer to be one of my 
consolaters — a Saturday afternoon companion. We too had a 
long ride in the country yesterday afternoon." 

He sought to keep the fires of his old friendships burning. 
It has been said that friendship is a plant that one must water 
often and Dr. Sam Johnson declared that a man should keep 
his friendship in constant repair. He saw a picture in the 
Herald of one of these old friends, Dr. C. C. Meador, — then 
the pastor of the Fifth Baptist Church in Washington, D. C, 
and it pleased him greatly to see the Doctor thus honored. 
The sight of the face takes his thoughts back to his home in 
Bedford and he writes in playful fashion of two of his early 
boyhood experiences with Dr. Meador: 

"I was the mill boy, and once each week I carried my sack 
to the mill where Mr. Meador was the ruling spirit. He seemed 
a long shot above me, but I fired many questions at him at long 
range and in time established friendly relations with him. 

"It is not quite noble to rake up unpleasant memories and 
it may be wrong in me to do it; but I had a difficulty with that 
man Meador in those far away days there among the towering 
hills of Bedford. He did a thing that I thought ill of at the 
time and about which I have never been fully reconciled. Those 
who were around us at the time are now beneath the Bedford 
sod and, as I cannot call on them to judge between us, I must 
appeal to the living to say where the wrong was. 

"They had a revival at Mount Hermon. Oh, it was simply 
glorious! I have never heard of such a time as that was to me. 
Old Father Harris was there in his venerable prime and more 
than once he came down the aisles with his long shock of snowy 
hair breaking over his shoulders and streaming in the breezes 
and his face wet with tears as he told us of Christ and Heaven 
and besought us to come into the ark. . . It was too much 
for me. I fled the house and out in the pines made my vow. 
At a later meeting I went forward for prayer and while sitting 



DR. C. C MEADOR 417 

by the side of Meador one night I felt the sense of God's for- 
giving love. Few ruder boys ever knocked at Mercy's gate 
than I was and few even had cruder notions of what ought to 
be done with such a blessed secret — even the secret of sins 
forgiven — than I had. There I sat with a fire in my bones, 
dropping silent tears, glancing at the new light and beauty on 
the faces of those who were singing and afterwards trying to 
hear the sermon. But a burning in my heart constrained me to 
tell somebody something, though I hardly knew what. There 
at my side was Meador deeply absorbed in the sermon and 
little dreaming what God had that night done for me. I 
touched him and he bent his ear down to me. I said 'I have 
a secret to tell you; go out with me.' Would you believe it? 
He would not go. For years I have charged him that he did 
me ill and I here and now renew the charge against him and I 
ask the judgment of the court. He may have reasons for his 
conduct but he has never given them to me. And what reasons 
could satisfy me. 

"But my feeling against him are mollified by the fact that 
a few weeks after that I had a terrible attack of doubt. It 
overcast my whole sky and shut off all light. My soul went down 
into the pit. Despair arose in me. But my day to put my sack 
on "old Fillie" and go to mill came and away I went taking my 
sorrows with me. Out of the mill came Meador, as I drove up, 
smiling as kindly as if he had never done me a wrong in his 
life. As we strolled into the carding rooms he said : 'You made 
me very happy the other night.' 

"I understood what he meant, but I was in no mood for 
anybody to be rejoicing over what seemed to be my folly in 
professing religion. I cut him off in short order by telling him 
that I had made a mistake, that my hope was dead and that I 
saw no chance for me. 

" 'And can it be' he said 'that the Devil has put you in 
Doubting Castle so soon? That will never do. Have you cast 
Christ away? I know he has not cast you away.' 

"Before I had a moment to reflect he had brought me face to 
face once more with Christ; my doubts fled and I found my 
feet once more on the rock. How easily he did it! What comfort 
he gave me! He has spent a life time in doing gracious things 
like that for those who needed him. He is a fountain of comfort. 
Not yet, old fellow, do I say that I will forgive you for denying 
me that night. We must have a few more wrangles over that 
before we get it settled. My feeling on that is still strong; but 






418 THE WHITSITT CONTROVERSY 

I trust that it is not of that bitter sort that will cause the gate 
of heaven to be shut against me or that will forbid our walking 
arm in arm when we go up to witness the crowning of him who 
washed us in his own blood." 

His shoulders carried at this time the heaviest denominational 
burden that had ever been laid upon him. A storm was brewing 
that threatened to disrupt the Southern Baptist Convention 
and there were many who looked to him to avert, if possible, 
the storm. 

The whole disturbance raged around the head of Dr. Wm. H. 
Whitsitt the president of the Southern Baptist Theological 
Seminary, — one portion of Southern Baptists clamoring for his 
resignation and the other portion being equally insistent that 
he should not resign, and upon Dr. Hatcher had been placed 
the leadership of the party that was friendly to Dr. Whitsitt. 
Many months before this time Dr. Whitsitt had written sev- 
eral articles that seemed disparaging to the Baptist position. 
He had written them as editorials in the "Independent" of New 
York, — a non-denominational periodical, — the subject about 
which Dr. Whitsitt wrote having already been under discussion 
in that paper. Dr. Whitsitt later on — of his own motion, — 
avowed his authorship of these editorials and at once the battle 
began. From many sources came complaints that the President 
of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary should have 
published as editorials in a non-denominational paper, — one 
not sympathetic with Baptists, — articles that seemed un-' 
favorable to the Baptists. But the most vigorous accusations 
against the Doctor were caused by his statement in the articles 
that immersion had been "invented in England in 1641". 
That utterance became to many his unpardonable sin and in 
a short while Southern Baptists found themselves divided into 
two camps, — one for and the other against Dr. Whitsitt. 

There was in the denomination a certain constituency called 
"Landmarkers", characterized by some one as the "High Church 
party" in the Baptist Denomination. They held the doctrine 
of "historic succession" insisting that there had been a regular 



THE WHITSITT CONTROVERSY 419 

and unbroken succession of Baptist churches from the days 
of the Apostles until the present time. Dr. Whitsitt's articles 
were a practical denial of their position and consequently 
the entire ranks of those who were called the Landmarkers 
seemed to take sides against Dr. Whitsitt. But it was not 
merely a Landmark issue. In many states there were those 
who, while not sitting in the Landmark camp, were yet shaking 
their heads against the Seminary President and thinking that 
he ought to resign. 

On the other hand there were many who did not feel that 
Dr. Whitsitt's publications in the Independent justified the 
movement for his overthrow, and they felt that the welfare of the 
Seminary required them to resist and, if possible to bring to 
naught this hostile campaign. Dr. Whitsitt's Louisville friends 
had asked Dr. Hatcher to take charge of the Whitsitt side of the 
contest. He consented because he felt that large denomina- 
tional issues were involved and thus he took the lead on one side 
of a contest which developed into the severest conflict that 
Southern Baptist Convention had ever known. It was expected 
that the struggle would culminate at Wilmington, N. C, 
where the Southern Baptist Convention and the Board of 
Seminary Trustees were to hold their annual sessions in 
May. 

The responsibilities of his position weighed upon Dr. Hatcher 
heavily. The president of the Convention, who was one of his 
best friends, — Judge Haralson, — wrote him shortly before the 
meeting: 

"Those opposed to our Uncle ['Uncle Billy' being the 
affectionate title given Dr. Whitsitt by the students] are num- 
erous. A majority west of the Mississippi, in Mississippi, 
Kentucky, Tennessee, a smart sprinkle in Alabama and else- 
where, may be counted as dissatisfied. It is doubtful which 
side will be in the majority if the test should be made. The 
Seminary should have the support and confidence of all. We 
must rescue it from distraction if possible. . . Both bodies 
(the Convention and the Seminary) are in danger and both 
need cautious handling." 



420 THE WHITSITT CONTROVERSY 

The settlement of the matter lay with the Trustees of the 
Seminary and it was there that the battle was to be waged 
and there the vote taken. And yet back of the Board was 
the larger body, the Convention, and the Board well knew 
that its action must meet the sentiment of the Convention. 

On all hands the reigning question at Wilmington was 
"What will be done about Dr. Whitsitt? Will his friends be able 
to hold him in his position, or will the other side compel his 
resignation?" Dr. Hatcher had no thirst for mere victory 
and he was not out on the path for any one's scalp. It was a 
peaceful ending of the agitation for which he yearned. He 
felt that it would be a disaster for the Seminary for Dr. Whitsitt 
to be forced to resign under such conditions and he hoped that 
something could be done in the Board to preserve the integrity 
of the Seminary Faculty and also the unity of the Convention. 
Many were the conferences, — by mail and by personal inter- 
view — that he held with his lieutenants and sympathizers, 
and when the Board came together in Wilmington, the day 
before the meeting of the Convention, he had his plan ready. 
This plan was for Dr. Whitsitt to make a statement to the 
Board, defining his position but admitting that he had made 
a mistake in writing the articles in the Independent, and that 
then the Board should accept this statement as a satisfactory 
solution of the entire trouble. He nearly always had his men 
selected to cooperate with him in bringing his measures before 
a body; he would have one to present the measure while he 
would follow with his reinforcements. 

The Board convened at Wilmington, and, upon motion, Dr. 
Whitsitt was invited to appear before them and make his 
statement. That statement had been written on the preceding 
night in our room at the hotel. Dr. Hatcher wrote it, with 
Dr. Whitsitt at his side making whatever suggestions he desired, 
though scarcely any were necessary inasmuch as he and Dr. 
Hatcher had thoroughly discussed the matter together. The 
writing of this statement in our room ran far into the night 
and on the next day Dr. Whitsitt read his statement to the 



THE WHITSITT CONTROVERSY 421 

Board and it was accepted as satisfactory, and Dr. Hatcher 
was appointed to report the matter to the Convention and this 
he did that afternoon. The great assembly listened with bated 
breath and at its close the long pent up storm of suspense and 
anxiety broke. 

"Then occured a demonstration", says a writer "which I 
never expect to see equalled again on the floor of the Southern 
Baptist Convention, — if I attend the body until I am old. The 
delegates moved like a tide towards the front to shake hands 
with Dr. Whitsitt. Old and young came and many of the older 
friends of the good president embraced him. . . The great 
body of christians behaved like children. Dr. Whitsitt was 
visibly affected." 

Everybody appeared happy, and the delegates soon scat- 
tered to their different states with the glad thought "the war 
is over." 

But even before the Wilmington Convention melted away 
a few mutterings of disapproval about the Whitsitt matter were 
heard; but they created only faint smiles from those on the 
other side. They did not disturb Dr. Hatcher. He wrote: 

"I have heard that there was some firing at Appomattox 
after Grant and Lee had signed the terms of capitulation and 
even to this peaceful day we now and then hear the sluggish 
report of an old army musket; but that does not signify that 
the war is still going on. . . Possibly many dear brethren on 
both sides of the Whitsitt tilt went to Wilmington with their 
guns charged for the battle; but the engagement did not come 
off. If we hear an occasional shot let us believe that they are 
simply emptying their guns before returning them to the rack. 
A few may wear their war clothes and tell large stories as to 
how they thrashed the other side but that is not war." 

But as the months passed the former discontent began to 
lift its head again and this was intensified by a sentence in Dr. 
Whitsitt's statement which Dr. Hatcher had read before the 
Wilmington Convention on the occasion when Dr. Whitsitt 
was given the great ovation and that was the sentence in which 



422 THE NORFOLK CONVENTION 

he declared that he had written the Independent articles from 
a Pedobaptist standpoint. That phrase, "from a Pedobaptist 
standpoint", seemed to wake the cohorts to battle afresh and the 
conflict now began to be waged more vigorously than ever. 
State Associations took the matter up for discussion and the 
lines were drawn even in district associations and in churches. 
But Dr. Hatcher kept in touch with his men in the Board of 
Trustees and sought to hold his lines in tact. He wrote me on 
April 6th: "The Whitsitt matter is in high shape and I really 
believe we have the Hessians on the canter." Several days later 
he wrote me: "Letters are still pouring in about the Whitsitt 
matter." It ought to be mentioned that the leader of the op- 
position was Rev. T. T. Eaton, D. D., of Louisville, an eminently 
popular and able leader. Around him the anti-Whitsitt forces 
rallied and he led them valiantly. He writes me on March 
28, in Norfolk where the next meeting of the Convention is to 
occur: 

"I am anxious to know if you meet with any of the Whitsitt 
madness in Norfolk at this time. How is Brer [pas- 
tor Church] talking these days? It would be a 

long-lasting pity for us to make a ripping fuss in a town like 
Norfolk [at the meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention 
in May]. If you are certain it would be safe to do it I wish 

you would ask if he would unite in a quiet effort to 

keep it out of the Convention. You might say that I was greatly 
hoping that it might be done in the interest of peace and har- 
mony in Virginia. 

"Fraternally, W. E. H." 

The newspapers took up the cudgels of war and by the time 
the next meeting of the Convention was held in Norfolk, Va., 
the contest had developed into a battle royal. Three or four 
weeks before the time for the Convention meeting, I received 
in Norfolk, where I was then pastor, the following letter from 
him: 

"I must have an eternally secret council meeting of some 
of the Trustees of the Seminary on Wednesday night May 4th. 
Where can we meet. Fix that for us and report at once." 



DR. WHITSITT'S RESIGNATION 423 

He received a telegram from Dr. Whitsitt requesting a con- 
ference at Ford's hotel in Richmond. 

The Convention arrived. Warmly waxed the contest in the 
Board. The pressure against the Whitsitt lines was enormous, 
but in the Board his friends held their ground and when the 
Convention closed no unfavorable action had been taken by the 
Convention or the Board against Dr. Whitsitt. The encounter 
in the Board was, of course, maintained on the high ground of 
christian courtesy and mutual respect, each side contending 
for what they believed to be right. Dr. Hatcher now looked 
forward to an era of peace. He writes me on May 18th: 

"I believe the Whitsitt storm is spent. I get letters of 
compliment on the outcome but I am too busy to enjoy them." 

Out in Kentucky the rumble of the battle was heard afresh, 
and one day he was overwhelmed with dismay and almost 
of indignation to read in the papers the announcement of Dr. 
Whitsitt's resignation, — the very thing, of all others, that 
he thought was provided against. It occured in connection 
with the Kentucky state Convention. There a strong pressure 
was brought to bear upon Doctor Whitsitt; he was urged to 
resign and this he did, because it seemed to him at the time that 
worse consequences might ensue if he refused. It threw the 
Whitsitt camp — so far as Dr. Hatcher and his cohorts were 
concerned — into bewilderment for the moment, but not into 
panic. 

The Board met to take action upon his resignation. So 
intense was the public interest in these meetings that the 
reporters were clamoring for admission, and the doors had to 
be locked against them. His resignation was accepted to take 
effect at the end of the next session. 

The final day of Dr. Whitsitt's incumbency arrived, — his 
last day as President, and the last day of the Commencement 
exercises. It was a memorable day. Dr. Hatcher, his friend, 
who had championed his cause, had been asked to be present 
and take part in the closing act. From different parts of Louis- 



424 WHITSITT DAY 

ville that morning the people hastened to the Seminary hall, — 
but let Dr. Hatcher tell the story: 

'The day was preeminently Whitsitt day. The consciousness 
that a notable event was at hand pervaded the city and im- 
parted a tinge of sobered melancholy to earth and sky. . . 
One thought reigned in every mind and one name trembled on 
every lip. 

"Dr. Whitsitt did not emerge from the presidential mansion 
until the time for the morning exercises was at hand. A 
serenity, so strikingly his distinguishing feature, marked his 
face and hid whatever of tumult went on in his soul. His 
entrance into Norton Hall where the exercises were to occur, 
stirred no applause. The people simply looked at him as he 
moved up the aisle — a look ineffably kind and reverential 
and were silent. Later on when the opening exercises had 
passed and a kindly reference to the man who sat in the chair 
was made the long suppressed passion of the assembly burst 
into applause, timid at first but growing in volume until its 
thunders actually shook the house. The brother who made the 
address of the morning was endured when he spoke on other 
themes; but if he dared to point his finger at Whitsitt, he became 
at once the friend and spokesman of the audience. They were 
there to pay court to just one, and all who assisted in that were 
friends. If there was music, its undertones were a loving good 
bye to the man whom Louisville delighted to honor. If a 
speech was made, it got its best hearing and its loudest applause 
when it uttered the sentiment of the hour. If honors came to the 
Seminary students, they took on a new charm and worth be- 
cause they bore his signature and came straight from his hand. 
If prayers were offered they reached their utmost fervor when 
they called for blessings on the retiring president. Reporters 
flitted about like hungry birds but nothing satisfied them so 
well as news about Whitsitt. Elect women sat through the 
service with faces wet with tears and every tear was a messenger 
from some heart bringing tidings of grief and love." 

One feature of the day was the presentation of the portrait 
of Dr. Whitsitt. Regarding this he writes: 

"True it was only a shadow of a man but many felt as if 
there was healing power in the shadow and that it would shed 
endless grace upon the Seminary. 



THE FAREWELL SCENE 425 

"At night the surging crowd came in, — apparently to the 
Commencement, — but really to get a final glimpse of the 
president and to hear his farewell words. It was overmastering 
to observe the subduing power of his voice and to mark the 
strain of attention with which every sentence was caught. 
The occasion and the man alike were too high for the indul- 
gence of shallow sentiment or to appeal for the pity of tears. 
A tone of pensive gratitude pervaded the opening utterances 
of the valedictory but this soon gave place to a thrilling appeal 
for steadfastness in upholding the fundamental doctrines upon 
which the Seminary was founded. His last words were a plea 
for loyalty to truth. There was a mellowness of manner, a 
quiet sense of self respect, and a touch of exalted charity in his 
tone which went to the hearts of his brethren. He had been 
through intense experiences and the close of his official career 
was itself a crisis and it was pleasant to observe with what 
discretion and grace he bore himself." 

After describing the closing scene when he ended his address 
Dr. Hatcher said that amid solemn silence: 

"The people gradually retired from the hall, the lights went 
out and Dr. Whitsitt was no longer the president of the South- 
ern Baptist Theological Seminary. 

"Thus passed out William H. Whitsitt from the service of the 
Southern Baptists. He left behind him the record of 27 years 
of continuous labor in our Seminary. No man ever had truer 
friends and not one ever carried with him more affectionate 
esteem and devotion into his retirement. Checkered, indeed, 
was his career. The sword went into his soul, and not all of 
his brethren could see eye to eye as to his wisdom and usefulness 
His convictions brought suffering and he showed the patience 
which marks the hero. What his immediate future will be is 
not known yet to the public, but it is hardly possible that the 
Baptist historians of the future will overlook his name. His 
last public words were: 'With charity for all and malice for 
none I bid you farewell.' " 

The question as to Dr. Whitsitt's successor now confronted 
the Board. In fact they were already dealing with it. Dr. 
J. P. Green was elected but he declined. 

In mid-Summer the Board met in Atlanta to elect a new pres- 



426 THE NEW PRESIDENT 

ident, and many eyes were turned towards Atlanta. The 
Secretary of the Trustees Rev. Dr. M. D. Jeffries, thus 
describes the scene: 

"All seemed uncertain; there was division of sentiment. 
Earnest prayers had been made, names were suggested for 
the important place that was to be filled. W. E. Hatcher arose 
in a somewhat hesitating way, yet with force in his words, 
and said that he had the name of a young man to present; 
he didn't know that he was the man but he believed in him. 
In a few such mild words, telling why he thought as he did, he 
presented the name of E. Y. Mullins. Without any great 
rush, but really with a spirit of questioning, yet of quiet con- 
viction, the suggestion seemed to take hold of the board. There 
were brief, earnest talks, conviction moving steadily one way. 
Presently a vote was taken and we had selected, at the sug- 
gestion of brother Hatcher, the hand, brain and heart which 
guide today, in such a masterly way, the affairs of our Seminary." 

An era of peace and hope seemed to have dawned for the 
Seminary and for the Denomination. It is said that Dr. Eaton 
seconded the nomination of Dr. Mullins and thus the divided 
forces seemed to have joined hands under the standard of the 
Seminary's new president. 

A bit of news came to Dr. Hatcher one day that struck him a 
center blow. He was told that the election of Dr. Mullins 
was being spoken of in certain places as a victory for the old 
Whitsitt party and as a result of a Whit si tt movement. With 
him the Whitsitt war was over, his old weapons had been cast 
behind him and his face turned to the future and the intimation 
that he was nursing the old complaint in his nomination of Dr. 
Mullins brought him to his feet and he wrote in the Herald 
the following pungent statement: 

"My attention has been called to the fact that there is a 
disposition in some quarters to accept the election of Dr. 
Mullins as the result of a Whitsitt movement. Of course news- 
papers say what they choose and in this frightfully free country, 
we must endure what we can not prevent. But, as I have been 
named as one who bore a part in winning a Whitsitt victory, 



NOT A PARTISAN 427 

I feel that, for once at least, I must break silence and have a 
little chat with the Southern Baptists. 

"I do not disguise the fact that in the Whitsitt agitation I 
stood with Dr. Whitsitt. This grew out of my approval of 
his administration and my intense desire to preserve intact the 
organization of our Seminary faculty. It is just to add that 
I have now much affectionate esteem for Dr. Whitsitt and my 
interest in him is not abated, in the least, by his separation from 
the Seminary; but my loyalty to the Seminary was never 
dependent upon Dr. Whitsitt's connection with it. When he 
went out my concern for the Seminary knew no diminution, 
and at once I cordially united with the majority of the Board 
in an effort to affect a speedy and satisfactory reorganization 
of the faculty. I met only the most fraternal confidence on 
the part of those who had not stood with me in a long and 
painful conflict and for myself I can say that not from the night 
that Dr. Whitsitt's resignation was accepted have I con- 
sciously done one act of a partisan sort to gratify the friends, 
or to wound the opponents, of Dr. Whitsitt. To have done 
so would have shown me unworthy of my position as a trustee. 
It was therefore with stunning surprise that I found that there 
were any who were ready to claim the action of electing Dr. 
Mullins as a triumph of the Whitsitt forces; and when I saw 
that I was being paraded as having been an actor in a partisan 
fight it cut me to the heart. I never looked for a Whitsitt man 
for the presidency of the Seminary. There was no line up of 
the Whitsitt men in the action in Atlanta. Indeed the supreme 
anxiety seemed to be to hit upon some man who could enable 
us to maintain peace in the Seminary and bring quiet to our 
borders. 

"I am offended by any attempt to associate my name with 
any partisan action in the Board. The war is over with me. 
My party in the future will consist of those trustees whose 
action show them to be the most intense and unselfish in their 
devotion to the Seminary. My door will hide no skeletons. I 
nurse no bitter memories and have no partisan ends to serve. 
They of the Whitsitt side who seek to keep up the Whitsitt 
feeling will not have me to run with them. Forgetting % the 
things that are behind I turn my face to the future and renew 
my pledges of loyalty to the Seminary. 

"It pains me to be before the public speaking in this personal 
strain; but an unwillingness to be misunderstood on this matter 
has constrained me. My life at best is small, and cannot very 



428 LETTER FROM DR.. WHITSITT 

long continue; but I do not feel that I can consent to be gib- 
beted as a man 'with a grievance', seeking craftily to nurse a 
strife or punish a foe. I think that if I ever had any wounds re- 
ceived in the Whitsitt conflict they are thoroughly healed and 
the weather never grows so stormy as to make them pain me as 
once they did. If I find that any of these wounds break out 
afresh I will quietly call the ambulance and slip away to the 
hospital and appear no more until the doctor discharges me. 
If my troubles grow chronic and medicines fail me I will make 
my final bow to the brotherhood and hide myself in the home 
for the Incurables." 

Several years after this Dr. Whitsitt writes: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — I rarely ever refer to the Whitsitt 
controversy but this article [on the leadership of Speaker 
Cannon] led me to review in my thoughts your management 
of that issue. There were one or two mistakes; but these were 
so slight as to possess little weight in the general mass of 
incidents. Among American Baptists no controversy has ever 
been fought so stoutly or so skillfully and none has been more 
fruitful of good results. . . I am grateful to you for the 
noble generalship you displayed in conducting it." 

It may not be amiss to mention that Dr. Hatcher's friend- 
ship for Dr. Whitsitt was later on shown in his leadership of the 
movement to secure Dr. Whitsitt for the chair of Philosophy 
in Richmond College where the Doctor spent the remaining 
years of his life in useful service and among his devoted friends. 

The above record of the Movement known as the "Whitsitt 
Controversy" has been given with no wish, of course, to awaken 
any unpleasant memories, to reopen any old wounds, or to 
make any unkind reference, but with the simple purpose to 
show Dr. Hatcher's relation to the movement. For Dr. Eaton 
the champion of the other side he had high admiration and 
respect and at the death of Doctor Eaton he wrote a tribute 
in the public press in his honor, saying among other things: 

"The primal characteristic of Dr. Eaton was alertness. He 
was quick of foot, quick of hand, quick of thought, quick of 
tongue, and yet distinct in utterance, orderly in thought and 






TRIBUTE TO DR. EATON 429 

guarded in movement. His mental processes flowed with a 
rush, and his only draw-back in public speech was his difficulty 
in formulating and phrasing his thoughts as fast as they came. 

"Now that the activities and conflicts of his life are closed, 
both his closest friends and his severest critics must pause in 
sober reflection and readjust, under the light of justice and 
love, their judgment of this unusual, resourceful personality. 
Under calm thinking we shall see more clearly the good and 
admire more the greatness in his life. We will gather in spiritual 
fellowship about his tomb and hail him as our brother in 
Christian bonds, as a messenger of the everlasting gospel, as a 
leader in our Baptist Israel, and as a warrior in the battles of the 
Lord. Gone from the strifes of life and now a citizen of the 
eternal city, we can all unite in the hope that we shall meet him 
face to face in that city whose builder and maker is God. 

"In those trying times/' writes Dr. Jeffries, the secretary of 
the Board, "when there was division among Southern Baptists 
and in the board over the Whitsitt matter, there was a contest 
in the board between giants. What wrestling that was! But 
let the secretary, who had the trying task of recording it all, 
bear public testimony that none of those strong men ever took 
unfair hold. These servants of the Lord, were contending for 
the right, as they saw it ; there was never in the board any of that 
ugly spirit and bitter accusing which marred press and speech 
of that time. Dr. Hatcher was spokesman and leader on one 
side of that contest." 

He addressed the Baptist Social Union of Cincinnatti on 
"The Baptist of the Future." He was a thorough-going 
Baptist. It is true that he kept the windows of his soul open 
towards those of every christian faith and mingled with them in 
loving fellowship, but he stood four square as a Baptist. He 
gloried in the history of his Baptist fathers and believed in the 
doctrines and in the future of the Baptists. In his address to his 
Cincinnati audience, he said: 

"The Baptist of the future is a necessity. His name is on the 
schedule of the ages and he will have to answer when called. 
The Baptists of the present generation have a large order on 
hand — far larger than they can fill by the time they will have 
to step out and this unfinished business will be left to the 
Baptist of the Future,''' 






430 THE BAPTIST OF THE FUTURE 

The future of his own denomination was a subject that often 
came before his mind. He touched upon it at the opening of his 
Cincinnatti address declaring that some people asserted that 
the time would come when all christians would be Baptists 
and every church a Baptist church. Others believed, he said, 
that not the Baptist name but the Baptist principles would 
capture the world. 

He attempted no prediction regarding such questions. He 
simply said: 

" These are matters of detail for the latter days and we are not 
prepared to discuss them. But there are things we know. We 
know that Baptists have solid reasons for their existence. They 
never split off from anybody. They have been born of great 
convictions. They stand for doctrines, fundamental and sadly 
overlooked and they can do no otherwise than to uphold the 
truth though it involves separation from all others." 

He paid tribute to the heroism of our Baptist forefathers, 
drawing a graphic picture of old John Weatherford, a Baptist 
preacher, of Virginia, who, imprisoned for his faith, continued 
to preach through the jail bars to the people on the outside, 
some of whom would wickedly whack his hands with their 
knives as, in his earnest gesturing, his hands would often be 
extended towards them through the bars and would sometimes 
sprinkle the hearers with his blood. 

He touched upon that branch of the Baptists known as the 
"Old School Baptists"; — those whose extreme views of pre- 
destination made them oppose sending the gospel to the heathen, 
and who as a sect are fast dying out. 

"They built," says he, "on the rock of God's eternal decrees 
and had a sure foundation. They pressed their narrow and 
icy creed to their breasts until it froze and shriveled their 
whole nature. They have been run over and crushed by the 
urgent friends of the commission which they misunderstood 
and opposed. Alas, they now hasten to an extinction which 
they have invited and made inevitable. Ichabod is written 
on their banner and their diminishing remnant lingers super- 
fluous on the stage. 



BAPTIST DOCTRINES 431 

"There are two ways of indoctrinating others. One is by 
driving the truth into those we wish to save. We catch the 
sinner or the heretic, growl furiously at him on account of his 
badness, threaten him with ruin, hurl the gospel at him with 
evident intent to kill and force him to surrender or die. 

"We are learning the better method, — that of a bright con- 
tagious life. The new champion of the truth is a delightful 
gentleman. He recognizes the good in others, shows the beauty 
of truth by living it, stimulates the study of it by knowing it 
and sheds on the air the mellow radiance of a heavenly char- 
acter. . . Doctrine wrapped in courtesy and delivered by 
those whose overall is charity is robbed of much of its repul- 
siveness." 

He draws the line between sentiment and sentimentalism : 

"Sentiment is logic clothed in the garb of passion. But 
sentimentalism is sentiment overdone; it is the excess of feel- 
ing, the riot of passion." 

The speaker sees a brighter day coming: 

"The sentimental attitude toward doctrine" says he "is 
weakening. Acceptance of creeds on account of heredity, or 
domestic or social influences must disappear before the reign 
of intelligence. Dogmas are not to be judged by their anti- 
quity or by their former popularity, but on the score of their 
truth. A Baptist church is a dismal home for a sentimentalist." 

He was strong in the belief that the doctrines of the Baptists 
were Bible doctrines, — commanded and practiced by Christ 
and the Apostles, and consequently he could not hold these 
truths lightly. While the New Testament made him a Baptist 
yet he had no quarrel with those who traveled a different 
doctrinal path. In fact he accorded them respect for their 
honest convictions. 

"After all," says he, "the best definition of a Baptist is a 
christian with the Bible in his hand accepting it as the ultimate 
deliverance of God, acknowledging its authority, submitting 
to its requirements, obeying its doctrines, so far as understood, 
and determined to understand the rest. 






432 THE FUTURE OF THE DENOMINATION 

"Baptists ought to be the world's leaders in scientific in- 
vestigation and there are indications that this will be the case. 
They are fitted for the task. Those who build upon man-made 
creeds and feel that when they sign the creed they are saved, 
would do well to avoid the frontiers of research. They may 
have their underpinning knocked out by some fact in nature 
or in history. But they who plant their life in the word of the 
living God are free and they are strong, and you cannot lose 
them. Order them out on the front, let them wrestle with the 
fiercest problems of error and the deepest mysteries of nature, 
but the gates of hell will never prevail against them." 

He had a burning ambition for the usefulness for his Denomi- 
nation : 

"Heretofore the Baptists have been busy with the primary 
questions of the christian life, — how to be saved, how to build 
their houses, how to bring in the lost, how to enjoy liberty, how 
to spread the gospel and many of these questions will continue 
to press upon them, but the Baptists are becoming great, — 
in numbers, riches, rank, learning and social power and they 
will be in good condition hereafter to lead in the world's im- 
perial search for truth. Our grandchildren ought to be kings 
and priests in the temple of knowledge. 

"The genius of the Baptists is freedom — freedom from 
ecclesiastical restrictions — freedom from the literalism of 
creed — freedom from the perils of tradition — freedom to serve — 
and freedom to guide. For this lofty specimen of manhood 
there must be room at the head." 

He brings his address to its ending by raising the question 
as to where the Baptist of the Future would come from: 

"I suggest that the Baptist of the Future will very probably 
be a buck-eye [Ohioan]. My experience of late in this giant 
growing state makes me quite decided in this forecast of our 
denominational future. But I am suffering with an anxiety. 
You have lately discovered such defiant ambition for pro- 
ducing Presidents that I fear you will get worldly and lose 
your power to produce spiritual giants. It may moderate 
your political pride to know that Virginia once thought herself 
happy in having a sort of monopoly in President-making. But 
she has retired from that business and gone to raising Baptists 



DAYTON AND LOUISVILLE 433 

and there is just a little whisper in the breeze which blows down 
from the hill-tops of the future that the coming Baptist will 
be a Virginian. 

"Be this as it may at last turn out to be, we are the Baptists 
of today, and we must make it easy for the Baptist of tomorrow. 
Let us hold our banner high and when we have to pass it to 
the Baptist of the future let it be so clean and fair that he will 
not be ashamed of the Baptist of the Past." 

From Cincinnatti he turned his face towards Dayton and 
from thence to Louisville. To one who was such a lover of his 
friends as was he, a delicious prospect opened before him: 

"The next morning", he writes, "I stole off to Dayton, — 
fair queen of the Ohio cities and the scene of many tender 
memories. Of that little visit I must not trust myself to speak 
except to say that it involved a reception, kindly arranged in the 
afternoon by Dr. Colby, a sermon, two addresses, an exhilarat- 
ing ride throughout the embowered streets of the city, hand- 
shakes uncounted, reunions, brief (but blessed) , sights of many, 
many friends and hours of boundless joys with the Colbys." 



CHAPTER XXXIII 
1898—1900 

PASSION FOR IMPROVEMENT. PREACHERS' HOUSE PARTY. FORK 

UNION ACADEMY STARTED. SICKNESS. THE NOVEL. 

VARIED LABORS. 

Soon after he built his Summer home at Fork Union his 
instinct for improvement showed itself in the case of the Fork 
Union village. He did not like its appearance. He felt that 
the Fork Union people were equal in intelligence and religious 
character to those in any of the Virginia communities, but as 
to the village, — there was a general need of whitewash, paint 
and repair work. A meeting of the people of the community 
was called and he addressed them on "improvement", and 
among the other results of his speech he kindled in them an 
ambition to make their buildings and lots more attractive, 
and in a very short time the brush, the broom and the hammer 
began the work of transformation. 

"Your father came on Friday", writes my mother, "when 
the young people of the neighborhood, and the old ones as well 
of Fork Union, turned out en-masse. He made them a talk 
and things went well. He has organized an Improvement 
Society here in Fork Union and things are on the upward 
move. The 2nd of September he will lecture." 

His Fork Union Summer home — "Careby Hall," as it was 
called — was gradually becoming a fountain of new joys to him. 
He had a "Preachers' House Party" during this Summer at 
Careby Hall, and among the guests were the following ministers : 
Drs. T. S. Dunaway, R. H. Pitt, James B. Taylor, J. R. Bagby, 

434 



THE CAREBY HOUSE PARTY 435 

Rev. R. H. Winfree and Rev. H. A. Bagby. The happiest of all 
was the host. He plunged into the games and other festivities 
with the enthusiasm of a boy and his enjoyment became con- 
tagious. 

"Careby Hall," writes Dr. Pitt in the Herald "is the name 
of the ample and handsome country home of Dr. William E. 
Hatcher. It is beautiful for situation, crowning one of the lofty 
hills which overlook the pleasant village of Fork Union, in the 
good old county of Fluvanna. Thither went early in the last 
week a company of congenial brethren, by special invitation 
of the family, to spend some days in rest and recreation. They 
were happy days whose hours glided away all too swiftly. 
There were two public meetings — Dr. T. S. Dunnaway, lec- 
turing in the day on 'Woman' and in the evening Dr. Hatcher, 
told a large company of hearers, in his own inimitable way of 
'Sights beyond the Sea'. As for our host he never seemed so 
happy. Surely none of us will ever think of this pleasant 
episode in our lives without breathing a benediction on our 
dear and honored friends." 

His interest in Fork Union grew day by day. He noticed 
that the boys in the community were busy on the farm, while 
the girls, as a rule, were off at school. This fact disturbed Dr. 
Hatcher and one day during the House Party, as he was 
driving some of the ministers in his carriage, one of them, 
pointing to a beautiful grove of trees, (at Mr. Walker Snead's 
home), said: "What a splendid place that would be for a 
school!" He told them that an Academy for Fork Union was 
a matter that lay heavy upon his heart. In fact he informed 
them that he wanted to begin operations that Fall. 

"That will be impossible" said one of the ministers. "I 
think your idea of planting an Academy here an excellent one, 
but it is now late in September and some of the schools are 
already starting. I think you can have it ready a year from 
now." To the surprise of all he announced that the new 
Academy would open its doors in about two weeks. The 
people of the community were stirred to the depths by the 
announcement. 



436 STARTING THE ACADEMY 

"Charles is talking and booming the Academy that is to be," 
writes my mother to me from Fork Union as late as September, 
27th. "Your father is to lecture here on Thursday night on 
'What will you do with your boy?' " 

The "Charles" whom she mentions was Captain Charles 
G. Snead and at this late day, January 1915, it can still be 
said that he is "talking and booming the Academy." Through 
all these years he has been the same ardent friend and cham- 
pion and helper of the school. 

"Fork Union is alive with enthusiasm about the school, — 
called the Academy" writes my mother on October 9th. "Mr. 
Martin is teacher, — your father, President of Board of Trus- 
tees, $500 is guaranteed, girls and boys to be received the first 
year. It will open Thursday night with public exercises. It 
is a promising project." 

His Fall work in Richmond was now crowding him with its 
duties, but of course he came up to Fork Union Thursday night 
for the launching of the infant Academy. This Academy opened 
for him a fresh source of happiness by giving to him a new 
opportunity for helping boys. Through all his ministerial 
life he had been picking up boys, putting his loving impress 
upon them, and if possible, 'firing them with an ambition for 
an education and a useful life. From this time, — more and more 
— it came to be one of his habits, while out on his trips through 
Virginia, to be on the lookout for a boy for Fork Union. "I 
stop at Careby Hall today for sorely needed rest" he writes 
me on November 15th, "I have a new boarder for the Academy 
on the train with me." The name of that new boarder is not 
given, but he was the forerunner of a long procession of pupils 
whom he brought to the Academy. 

The early pages of this biography, in telling the story of Dr. 
Hatcher's conversion, when a fourteen year mountain boy, 
told of his moonlight walk to his country church on a Saturday 
night when he was overtaken by a man, Munroe Hatcher, who 
explained to him, in simple fashion, the plan of salvation and 



MUNROE HATCHER 437 

in that way led him to Christ. Almost fifty years had passed 
since that night and Munroe, now an old man, was still living. 
He heard one day that the Baptist General Association of the 
state was to meet in Lynchburg, — not very far away. He 
knew that it would probably be the last chance that he, at his 
advanced age, would ever have of attending the Association, 
and so he went, and on Saturday morning in the Association, 
Dr. Hatcher's eye, as it moved over the throng, fell upon his 
aged benefactor, Munroe. At a certain point in the prodceed- 
ings he arose and said: 

"Brother moderator, about fifty years ago, in the adjoining 
county of Bedford, when I was an awkward country boy 
burdened about my sins and groping for the light, a man met 
me one night and in gentle, kindly fashion led me to the Savior. 
His name was Munroe Hatcher and I see him in the audience 
this morning. I beg pardon for the seeming egotism but I feel 
that I must acknowledge my immeasurable debt to him here 
before you all." 

As he said that, he called the name of Munroe Hatcher and 
the old man was asked to come forward. I can see him now, — 
tall and rugged looking — pushing his way through the throng- 
to the platform and receiving from Dr. Hatcher his grateful, 
loving handgrasp before the people. No sooner was this done 
than the delegates, as if by a common impulse, moved to the 
front to give the Bedford veteran their affectionate greeting. 
There were not many dry eyes and it was a picture not easity 
erased from the memory of those who witnessed it. 

The Herald, after telling of the greeting that was given by 
the Association to Munroe Hatcher, thus continued: 

"It is worthy of remark that just a few hours before, while 
sitting in one of the rooms of the church at Opelika, — far away 
in Alabama, — Dr. W. C. Bledsoe, the honored Secretary of the 
Board of State Missions, had told the writer the story of his 
conversion. He was a Confederate soldier on furlough in 
Fluvanna, and at old Fluvanna church he heard a sermon from 
Dr. Hatcher which touched his heart and led him to inquire 



438 ENTERING THE NEW BUILDING 

the way of salvation. 'I can never forget' he said 'how tenderly 
and sympathetically Hatcher led me out of the darkness into 
the light, and how fervently he prayed for me out under the 
trees in the neighborhood.' Thus, from the work of this faith- 
ful old man in Bedford, who led Dr. Hatcher to Christ, the 
lines of influence have gone out into this distant state." 

"Hampton, Va., November 16th, 1898. 

"My Dear Doctor, — At the meeting of the Association 
[at Lynchburg]. . . it gave me the greatest pleasure to 
notice how much you are honored and how greatly you are 
appreciated by our brethren. I hope that our God for many 
years will permit you to give your valuable services to our 
brethren. I envy you the opportunities you have for doing 
good and your great common sense and tact. 

"As regards the Main Building at the Orphanage for her 
[his deceased wife] and for the Master's sake, I will be one 
of twenty to give $1,000 to erect a $20,000 building. 

"With the prayer that our God will spare you for many years 
to our denomination. 

"Yours Fraternally, 

"Henry L. Schmelz." 

To Dr. E. W. Hunt he writes on November 25th: 

"My lad Coleman, who enlisted in the army, is home and we 
are happiness embodied over his get back. He is quite a 
satisfactory youth in several respects. 

"By the way I have another — just taken and full of promise. 
If I had that little Paul in hand also I would be happy." 

He had the great joy on December 11th, of entering his new 
church building, — not the auditorium, but the Sunday School 
room; but this, with its many side rooms, furnished ample 
attractive accommodations. Many hearts in Richmond re- 
joiced that day that the Grace Street church, with their brave 
pastor, — so long without their own church building — were once 
more entering a beautiful structure of their own at their old 
corner at Foushee and Grace Streets. Concerning the dedi- 
cation and the new edifice the Herald says: 




GRACE STREET BAPTIST CHURCH AS REBUILT 



I 



THE HANDSOME STRUCTURE 439 

"As a piece of architectural beauty the great building, with 
its handsome, brown-stone trimmings, its rounded walls, its 
lofty and beautiful spire and its massive doors and numerous 
windows is the admiration of Richmond. 

"By the special request of his brethren, Dr. Hatcher preached 
the sermon. His text was 'For the Father seeketh such to 
worship him" and the theme of his sermon was 'God the 
Father, seeking for true worshippers.' There was profound 
feeling during the sermon and it looked as if the hand of God 
had touched the vast audience. 

"At his church meeting on Monday night Dr. Hatcher de- 
clared that his church was a harp of a thousand strings and 
if one was discordant he did not know it." 

He took great delight in his grandchildren. He thus writes 
concerning "Virginia," one of Kate's daughters: 

"Virginia is a dashing genius. She has a most exalted 
opinion of her ganfaver and of course that shows that she 
knows a first class article when she sees it in a front window." 

He delivered a series of addresses in January at Mercer 
University, and, a month later, he aided Dr. W. W. Landrum 
in meetings at his church in Atlanta, and also preached the 
dedication sermon at Dr. L. G. Broughton's new Tabernacle. 
My marriage to Miss Anna Denson of Norfolk occured on 
March 28th; he performed the ceremony, and regarding his 
new daughter-in-law he wrote me a few weeks later: 

"Tell Anna that I have been unaccountably happy of late — 
somewhat to my surprise. There seems no local cause for any 
extra enjoyment on my part. In fact my bothers have been 
swarming. It is unaccountable that I should be in such a 
radiant mood — unless it be that I am so proud of my new 
daughter. Possibly that is what is the matter with me. But, 
of course, the matter of this blissful mood continuing may de- 
pend a deal upon the way she treats Careby this Summer." 

In a letter to his wife, after saying that he does not know 
what to do about his well at Careby he adds: "I may send the 
trap this week or next. But that is another puzzle and I must 



440 THE FALL CAMPAIGN 

take time on puzzles when they grow three in a hill." Another 
of his pastor friends departed from Richmond — Dr. L. R. 
Thornhill: 

"The going of Thornhill breaks a holy tie with me. In 
many things he is far more to me than any other man in the 
Minister's conference. We know each other and I believe in 
him with a faith that would suffer martyrdom if necessary. 

"My intimates are not numerous these days and my isolation 
is not always tempered by the thought that a brother is in 
easy reach if I need comfort. But men ought not to be weak 
enough to yearn for sympathy. 

"Dr. is here. I have been giving him attention. 

He is sober and fond of quiet. I am too much of a rusher for 
him. I would wear him out before I got my blood up." 

The Fall campaign is always a straining season in a pastor's 
career. After writing of the sensational efforts of some des- 
perate pastors to drum up a Sunday night throng, he says: 

"Truly it is a tough thing to be a pastor at any time. It 
looks as if you may do as you will and then be quite sure that 
you ought to have done some other way. Arrow shooting 
among the members is at its best during the Autumn and few 
pastors escape the fusillade. Do what they may, they are 
called to nervousness and prone to resign during the Fall 
days." 

He spoke in October at the inauguration of Dr. E. Y. Mullins 
as President of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in 
Louisville, saying of Dr. Mullins, in the course of his address, 
"He is blind to incidents, but faces issues", — a statement that 
would be singularly applicable to himself. In his leadership of 
a movement he generally kept his fire for the main attack. 

"I started a movement several weeks ago," he writes, "to 
build an Academy building [at Fork Union] to cost $3,000 and 
we have about $2,000 already promised. 

"I get very tired and actually feel the weight of years upon 
my shoulders. But what a small difference my dropping out of 
the procession will make." 

The details of the pastorate now strained him heavily. 




GRANDFATHER AND VIRGINIA 



[ 









NEARING THE STEEP OF THE HILL 441 

At the General Association in Richmond in November 
visiting ministers, — former Virginians — were introduced to the 
body one day by the president, after which Dr. Hatcher created 
a burst of laughter by saying: 

"Brother Moderator, I think it would be appropriate to 
sing the hymn : 

'As long as the lamp holds out to burn 
The vilest sinner may return?' " 

"During the recent meeting of the General Association" 
writes Rev. R. A. Tucker. "Dr. William E. Hatcher, that 
great friend of all struggling interests made a statement concern- 
ing this object [The Fisher Memorial] and took a collection 
for the same." 

"My health is not by any means bouyant" he writes to me 
"and my spirits have a contemptible way of getting dismally 
down. At times I stagger under my burdens and almost sigh 
for rest. It may be laziness and I must discourage it." 

Nearer and nearer he is drawing to the top of his steep pas- 
toral hill. He writes me: 

"I have read what you wrote about Inspiration. It is a far 
reaching question and you ought to read up all shades of 
opinion — get the latest results of conservative christian scholar- 
ship on the subject. Of course you need to know thoroughly 
the history of the make up of the Bible, — both Testaments. 
Anything you publish on that matter needs mature study and 
much revision. It is a great theme and you may make great 
deliverances but be sure of your ground." 

To my wife he writes: 

"Richmond, Va., December 11th 1899. 

"My lovely Anna, — Your letter was a gem and I am a 
monster for not taking the first train for Norfolk. But you 
know, my little dear, that things are not in a Millennial shape. 
Other things rank my health, in point of value, and my aches 
have to go on. 

"By the way we are thinking of going to the Hut in the 



442 THE CLIMAX OF THE STRAIN 

Brush called 'Careby' for Christmas. . . Of course you 
will be there, — you and the young man who over-married him- 
self. That is understood. 

" Yours, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

The death of Mr. Moody, the great evangelist, touched 
him deeply. He wrote in the Herald on January 11th, a 
tribute to him: 

"Moody was a magnet. . . The best and the worst 
believed in him. He was the matchless leveler. He was a 
fountain of healing waters and seemed to cure all manner of 

diseases." 

"I have flopped around in a noisy and unproductive way 
since Christmas" he writes "and apparently the world will 
have no occasion to build any lofty shaft to commemorate 
my useful services to mankind. For one thing I was struck 
with a mania to write a novel and have on hand about one 
hundred and fifty pages of it with which to annoy my friends. 
Of course it will not disturb the serenity of succeeding genera- 
tions." 

A novel! That is his latest venture; — but more about this 
later. 

"Dr. Hatcher", says the Herald "had planned to leave 
Richmond for Atlanta this week to help Dr. McDonald in 
special services there. On Sunday, however, he was taken with 
a sharp sickness from which he is still suffering. His physician 
Dr. H. Wythe Davis, says that rest is imperative for him." 

At last the climax comes, — the climax of the strain and 
burdens of a twenty five years' pastorate in connection with 
multitudes of other activities. He drops under the load and 
is laid upon his bed of sickness and in a short while the doctor 
orders him off to the rest and quiet of Careby Hall, his country 
home. No sooner does he arrive at Fork Union, ill though he 
was, than he begins to train some of the Sunday School boys 
for a dialogue. 



SICK AT FORK UNION 443 

"This morning I have laid out a little work" he writes — 
"a short dialogue for Ellis and Claude Snead — a deep secret 
known to none. They are to say it at the B. Y. P. U." 

"Fork Union, Va., February 8, 1900. 

"My Dear Eldridge, — I have played the solitary and 
soothed my fretting nerves by the lightest reading that I could 
hit upon. Repose is my best ointment and sleep my medicine. 
I hope by next week to be ready for the storm and clash of 
battle again. 

"Careby Hall is beautiful. Winter cannot blight its charms. 
. . . I ought to say that my people have been wonderfully 
sweet and anxious during my sickness. 

"(Right at this point I was interrupted by a posse of Academy 
boys who came to call upon me.) 

"I must say that the Academy is a flower of Paradise. . . . 
We are set on having a new building for next year which will 
cost,— say $4,000. 

"I have been writing a story this winter. It lacks much of 
completion, though it is now about 130 pages on type writer. 
You must hear a fragment of it when we meet." 

My wife and I spent nearly a week with him at Fork Union 
during his Careby sickness and had the pleasure of hearing 
him read the novel — or rather that part of the novel — which 
he had written. 

The scene of the story is laid in the Fork Union village, which, 
in the story, is called Tresden Lodge. Evidently his favorite 
character in the novel is "Burton," the village store keeper 
and post-master, who was constantly doing unsuspected kind- 
nesses and who seemed to have a mortal horror of being caught 
in the act. The novel opens with a description of Burton and 
thus continues: 

"On the day our story opens a new padlock seemed to have 
been put on Burton's lips. His new clerk, Frank Copeland, 
said to the wagon driver: 'The boss hasn't spoken but once 
this blessed morning.' He failed, however, to tell the whole 
story for he, Frank, had buttressed himself against a post and 
had had his hands in his pockets for a full hour when Burton 
strolled solemnly by and gently, — almost apologetically — 






444 HIS NOVEL 

inquired of his new clerk: 'Young man, were you born with 
your hands in your pockets, or were the pockets built around 
your hands at a later period?' 

"Frank felt a shiver and a jar and, in his confusion, he slipped 
up to his room in the second story and sewed his pockets up. 

"Burton had just finished opening and distributing the mail 
when a quick step was heard at the front door and a stranger 
strode in and moved on the post-master as if he had a private 
quarrel to settle. The new-comer was short and full, his pants 
were stuffed in his boots, his necktie was having a quiet Sat- 
urday at home and his huge buggy whip trailed on the floor 
behind him. 

"Fastening his eye on Burton, this stranger approached 
him and asked: 

"Is there a letter in the office for Carp Klenshaw? 

"Burton commenced slowly to run through the letters. The 
stranger was carrying a surplus of vitality and after a season 
he popped several flippant questions at Burton: 

" 'How d'you like being post-master and store-keeper both?' 

"No response from Burton. 

" 'Got many folks that come to your place for their mail?' 

"These questions and others secured no recognition, whatever, 
from the imperturbable Burton. Irritated by the obstinate si- 
lence of the postmaster the stranger finally remarked to Burton: 

" 'Well I notice you seem inflated about your stomach and 
so I guess you have swallowed your voice." 

"Burton flashed one momentary, satyrical glance at the 
stranger, but uttered not a word and gave no sign that he was 
in the least affected by the remark. 

" T believe' said Burton 'that your name is Carp Klenshaw. 
Was not that what you said when you first came in?' 

"His words were slow and measured. 

" 'That is the name I used to be called by when I lived in a 
country where folks know how to talk,' said the aggressive 
Klenshaw. 

"By this time Burton had fished out a letter with Carp 
Klenshaw's name on it. 

" 'Stranger about here?' he asked as he handed the letter 
to Klenshaw with a look that suggested conciliation. 

" 'Happy day' said the stranger, T am delighted that yoti 
have coughed up your voice. It seems not to be in good order. 
You had better throw her up on the shed and let her dry.' 

" 'How long since you bought a controlling interest in my 






HIS NOVEL 445 

natural faculties?' inquired the unruffled Burton, as he put 
the package of letters back in their place and wiped a little 
dust from the desk. After a long pause he added: 

" 'I always understood that the human voice was a device of 
nature to produce speech, but not designed primarily to rattle.' 

"These words did not strike Klenshaw as signifying much, 
but they gave him a sort of inward wrench. It looked as if he 
had been tampering with an electric battery. He found him- 
self instinctively respecting Burton, though he rather wished 
that he might frame an excuse for hating him. It occured to 
him that he ought to laugh it away before they parted, but it 
mystified him to find that he was so helpless. Usually he had 
been able to hold his own with all comers. But Burton was 
inaccessible. As a final expedient he said in a tone at once 
apologetic and defiant: 

" 'It looks as if my playful remarks have given offense where 
none was intended. Hereafter I will be more careful in my 
dealings with thin-skinned animals.' 

"A pale and serene smile flickered on Burton's brow. He 
was in full charge of himself, but he was not unwilling to have 
an occasional contest. 

" 'My father once had a blooded boar' said Burton 'that 
undertook to bite off a shovel handle. He broke his tusk and 
swallowed it and my father said that he — the boar — had inward 
pains all his life. If you are suffering I will give you a pill.' 

" 'I suppose that means that I am the boar and you are 
the shovel handle' said the baffled Klenshaw 'and I believe 
that is about the size of it. I see you are a dangerous customer 
to monkey with. Give me one, sweet smile and we will take 
another chance at each other some other day.' 

" 'Just as you say' spoke Burton with a suggestion of warmth 
in his manner." 

The story then proceeds to tell how Klenshaw walked out 
on the porch of the store and spied two horses dashing down the 
road towards the store at break-neck speed. They were hitched 
to a carriage in which was seated a beautiful young lady with 
her old aunt and both of the ladies were terror-stricken. Klen- 
shaw rushed into the middle of the road, leaped for the reins, 
and managed finally to stop the horses, but, in the struggle, 
his shoulder was dislocated. He was tenderly taken in hand by 
Burton and much against his wishes, was carried to Burton's 







446 HIS NOVEL 

room over the store where he was given every possible attention. 
The second chapter opens with Klenshaw stretched out on 
Burton's snowy bed and a darkey about to enter the room as 
Klenshaw's nurse. 

"An interesting figure appeared in the door — an aged negro, 
unqualified in his blackness, but clean as a new penny and with 
a manner almost regal in its dignity. His garb told of better 
days and showed that the brush could help, if it could not 
renew, an old garment, and as he came in he made a bow that 
was gracious as well as submissive. 

" 'Skuse me sar' the old negro said with a majestic wave of his 
right hand; 'Mars Burt'n sont me ter stay wi' you durin' your 
illness, an sar, her' I is. My name is Isrel Brookley; I bars 
de nam uv m'ole mars' Cul' Arthur Brookley who lived at 
Granite Cliff on the lower plantation. 

" 'Well' said Klenshaw evidently confounded by the kindness 
of Burton who never took the pains to consult his wishes, 
'Mr. Burton is far freer with his acts than his words. It is 
more than I am used to to be waited on and I hardly think that 
I need you. Anyhow I wish you would kinder slip my hand 
around to see if it will get over its numb feeling. It hurts like 
forty." 

"Israel was a skilled nurse. He had handled men for sickness, 
for wounds and for nocturnal revels at Granite Cliff. He 
slid his arm under the pillow, changed its position, altered 
the angle at the elbow and gave a lick or two at the bolster 
and instantly Klenshaw felt a sense of relief that was delightful. 
In a minute he was fast asleep and Israel quietly sought a chair 
and sat down. Presently the sleeper began to stir and to show 
signs of suffering. In a twinkle the watchful nurse was at his 
side and put his hand on the brow of the patient. Its effect 
was instantaneous and for an hour he stood there stroking 
the temple of the sleeper. 

" 'You think I have been asleep, do you?' asked Klenshaw. 

" 'No; sar; I know'd you warnt 'sleep. I seed dat frum de 
blow uv your breff, but you was quiit and dat was de med'cin 
you oughter had.' 

"Klenshaw was a Pennsylvanian and had just come to 
Virginia, a few weeks before, to saw up a lot of white-oak 
timber which his company had bought on the other side of 
Benton Creek. As for the negroes he had no sentiment in 
their favor. He had heard they would not work, were great 



HIS NOVEL 447 

believers in ghosts, spent most of their time in religious revels 
and were as truly barbarians as if they had been brought in on 
the last ship from Africa. 

"The sight of the venerable old negro was not pleasing to him. 
He did not know how to treat this hoary son of Africa. 

" 'You and Mr. Burton been together all your lives?' he 
asked as a starter. 

" 'Lord bless you, No, sar, we aint; Fse ole nough to be Mist' 
Burt'n's grand father' exclaimed Israel. 'His father was my ole 
mars' overseer. He didn' have nothin' ter do wid me tho' 'cause 
I staid at de house. I was de Curnill's hostler sar.' 

" 'You dont mean that you were ever one of them Southern 
slaves?' asked Klenshaw. 

" 'Might I arsk you wat your name is,' put in Israel almost 
glaring at him, 'I mean no disrespec' but I finds it hard to 
d'rect my talk to an unbeknown gen'lmun'. 

" 'My name is Klenshaw' said the individual involved 'and 
if it will in any way guide your aim in talking I will say also 
that you are the first slave that I ever met and I would like 
to hear what you have to say about yourself.' 

" 'S'kuse me, Mr. ; what you call yourself?' broke 

out the confused Israel. 

" 'Klenshaw' the owner of the name repeated. 

" 'Tank you sar' said Israel smiling in spite of himself; 'dat 
is a fine sounding name. Did your father ever live up the 
James river? Seems to me that I've hearn of the name of the 
; I mean the family of that name.' 

" 'Do not strain your mind old man about my name or about 
my family,' said the frank and honest Pennsylvanian. 'My 
family is a broken stick and I smell of the saw mill. So you 
need not try to tie me on to any high folks.' 

"Israel was dumbstruck. He had grown up in the atmos- 
phere of the Virginia Aristocracy. Poverty to him for years 
looked like a badge of shame for white people." 

Thus the story moved along with its dialogues and its char- 
acter sketches. He wrote several chapters but his return to 
Richmond, where clamorous duties awaited him, seemed to 
close the door to any further work on the story. 

"For months" he writes Orie from Careby "I have had a 
measure of nervous depression which at times has been crit- 



448 ADDRESS AT HOT SPRINGS 

ical and I am anxious to be stronger — if I am ever to be — 
before I take up my burdens." 

He returned to Richmond and plunged afresh into his work. 
He writes: 

"My cares over the Academy and the Orphanage have been 
very oppressive and are yet and I am thinking of unloading." 

How often during these passing years he would threaten 
himself with an "unloading"; but the skies would afterwards 
clear up and the unloading be postponed. 

At the Southern Baptist Convention in Hot Springs, Ark., 
in May he showed his resourcefulness as a speaker. 

The Baptist Courier thus refers to the incident: 

"Dr. W. E. Hatcher, the Grand Old Man of Virginia Baptists, 
had for his theme 'A Century of Baptist Preachers.' Dr. 
Hatcher had been in delicate health, had not intended coming 
to the Convention, and had forgotten about the address ex- 
pected of him, until he was reminded after reaching the grounds. 
His address on 'Century Day' was wholly extemporaneous, 
and seemed to be almost entirely impromptu. It came alongside 
of the capital speeches of Drs. Carroll and McDonald. I am 
safe in saying that I never heard an impromptu speech of such 
sparkling vivacity, humor, wit, pathos, and wisdom. Surely 
no other man in the Convention could have done it. 

"Dr. Hatcher has in wonderful degree the elements of Christian 
leadership. There are in him maturity, wisdom, judgement, 
magnetism, and unfailing resource, together with an evident 
sweet humility learned of the Master." 

One paper stated: 

"Rev. W. E. Hatcher introduced as belonging to the whole 
South, but temporarily located at Richmond made one of the 
most facetious, happy, eloquent speeches of the Convention, 
his subject being 'A Century of Baptist Preachers.' 

The new child of his heart, the Fork Union Academy, had 
now reached its first Commencement, and as he presided on 
that occasion he was exhuberantly happy. 



HELPING THE NEEDY BOYS 449 

"I am just home from the Commencement of the Fork 
Union Academy which occurred on Tuesday" he writes me; 
"Prof. Mitchell was the orator of the day and he really dazzled 
the people by his eloquence and learning. In the afternoon we 
had speeches, music and dialogues by the school and we fairly 
ran the people wild. It was thrilling to witness the eager and 
delighted crowd. I had a reception at Careby and that closed 
the session. We are building the Academy house and it is 
to be large and superb. . . We have in sight a small flood 
of students for next year." 

Ex-Governor Northern of Georgia wrote him: 

"God has helped you to bring so much sunshine into the 
life of so many people that you deserve a great flood of it all the 
time from your brethren. If the warm and abiding love of my 
heart can bring you any gladness, you shall have it in all the 
devotion of the most tender affection." 

He yearned to help the needy boys who were struggling for an 
education. He declared that the Colleges and Universities had 
millions of dollars at their disposal, "but who will help the 
dear fellow at the bottom" said he; "There he is — a country 
lad, great browed, unsociable, gloomy in his isolation, mourning 
over his restrictions, dying for an opportunity." A young man 
writes him: 

"Some time ago, when on the train on your way to Fork 
Union, you told me that you would help me in a pecuniary 
way if I wanted to attend the Seminary this Fall." 

The young man goes on to tell of his decision to attend the 
Seminary and of his hope that Dr. Hatcher can help him. This 
was simply one of many such letters of appeal. During his 
Summer vacation he wrote: "I have utterly lost the art of 
resting, — except by preaching." Here is his picture of a day 
spent in returning from the Eastern Shore: 

"But alas, think of me — tortured by the dread of an alarm 
clock, jerked out of bed at three-thirty in the morning, stum- 
bling drowsily around, and stuffing a senseless telescope with 
bulging bundles, lumbering down a dim stairway scrambling into 



450 "HAPPY TIMES" 

a buggy, yawning and gaping along under cold and unpitying 
stars, peering up a straight track to catch the sight of the coming 
train and finally tumbling into the cars and feeling that life is, 
after all, a mixed affair. That was the fate of yours humbly 
on the return morning. 

"But things righted up fully that day. I cut the morning 
train and stopped over to see Henry Schmelz. My call had a 
business basis — some perplexing orphanage matters; but Henry 
actually quit the bank, proclaimed a holiday, took me on a sail, 
showed me the grim mysteries of the Rip Raps, made me the 
laughing stock of the denizens of the sea by putting me to 
fishing, gave me hours of earnest conference on the orphanage 
problem, dined me at the hotel and sent me on my homeward 
way. Friday evening showed me Richmond and an assembled 
building committee waiting for me." 

In August his third grandchild, William E. Hatcher, Jr., 
was born. 

He held another meeting at Wake Forest College and from 
there he wrote: "Yesterday will be remembered as one of the 
greatest days of my life." He had immense capacity for "hav- 
ing a good time." 

"Friends do me ill at times" he writes "by charging me with 
excessive exhuberance in describing the happiness of my ex- 
periences as I go forth on my revival trips. They say that I 
write as if I always see the best of earth and heaven. 

"But now possibly on former occasions I may have over- 
drawn my picture, but this time I simply have to drop to 
bottom figures and use no extra colors. It does look to me as 
clear as sunlight that my last trip to Wake Forest easily eclip- 
ses all that ever went before. Indeed I am so enraptured by the 
glories of this last time that it almost seems that my previous 
times must have been failures. 

"I was at Wake Forest nine days having slipped away from 
Richmond without asking my lovely and tyrannical church if 
I might 'go out'. This I did because I was afraid that if 
I asked permission I might be stood up in the corner and pun- 
ished for previous transgressions. But what I did for my Lord 
while I was gone I requested should be put to the credit of my 
church. 

"Bear in mind that several families contended for me — much 






DEATH OF HIS DAUGHTER MAY 451 

to the inflation of my conceit — and I insisted on staying with all 
of them, but was finally suppressed and kept under control, 
except that I did break bread with the Poteats, the Caddells 
and the Brewers." 

His family circle was broken by the death of his oldest 
daughter,— May, who for a long while had been an invalid. 
She died at Careby Hall. The funeral was preached by Rev. 
W. P. Hines, the pastor of the West View Church in Richmond 
in which she had rendered very devoted service, — first when 
it was a Mission and later when it developed into a church. 

He was not idle at the meeting of the General Association 
in Bristol, — as is seen from Dr. Fisher's words in the Herald: 

"What would we do without Dr. W. E. Hatcher? What a 
power he is! How easily and gracefully he brings things to pass. 
He was never happier than at the Bristol meetings." 



CHAPTER XXXIV 
1900—1902 

HIS CHINESE BOY. COLEMAN M . DEDICATION OF HIS NEW 

BUILDING. ACCEPTANCE OF THE RICHMOND COLLEGE CALL. 

RESIGNATION. EDUCATIONAL WORK. LETTERS TO 

CHILDREN. ROCKEFELLER CAMPAIGN. 

It was at this time that a Chinese boy, Ah Fong Yeung, 
became linked into his life in a very close and permanent way. 
The boy had been sent over to America to be trained at Rich- 
mond College and, when disappointment threatened the lad 
and there seemed to be no friend at hand to assume his support 
and education, Dr. Hatcher came to his rescue. The Herald 
thus tells the story: 

"Dr. Hatcher has one more burden on his shoulders, though 
some think he was overloaded before. Dr. Graves, at Canton, 
China, our veteran missionary sent over, in charge of Brother R. 
E. Chambers, a sprightly Chinese boy to be educated. The lad's 
name is Ah Fong Yeung. He is fifteen years old, a son of 
Dr. Graves' assistant, is himself a Baptist and has been three 
years in an English school in Canton. He hopes to enter 
Richmond College but as he is not ready for that Dr. Hatcher 
is asked to take him to the Fork Union Academy. This he has 
done though he says he will have to look to the Lord and the 
Baptists for the money. Who will help him? One brother 
gives five dollars to start with. Let us help train this boy for 
christian service in his native land." 

Soon after Dr. Hatcher's decision to help Ah Fong, the boy 

was taken around to Dr. Hatcher's study and there he met the 

one who was to be his friend through many years. He thus 

describes his visit: 

452 



HIS NEW CHINESE BOY 453 

"The first time I met Dr. Hatcher was in the pastor's study 
of the Grace Street Baptist Church. Mr. R. E. Chambers 
went with me. Dr. Hatcher asked me my name and age. He 
then asked: 'Do you know how to read?' I replied: 
" 'Yes, Sir; a little.' 

"He gave me a passage from the Bible to read. When I 
finished he said: 

" 'That's fine. Are you homesick?' 

" T didn't know what home-sick meant; so he explained it 
to me. He again asked: 

" 'Have you any more clothes and shoes?" 

"Maybe what I had on did not suit his taste; but I replied: 

" 'Yes sir; I have on a pair of shoes and wearing some 
clothes.' 

"He smiled at my answer and said: 

" 'Now I want you to go out with me for a little while. 1 

"He went with me to a shoes' store on Broad Street and 
bought me a pair of fine shoes; then he went with me to a 
clothier and there bought me a suit of clothes, a stiff bosom 
shirt with blue stripes and a white collar. I was then the 
happiest boy on earth. On leaving him he said: 

" T will call on you in a few days.' 

"Two days afterwards — Thanksgiving Day it was and 
about two o'clock — Dr. Hatcher came around to Clay Street 
where I was staying with Rev. R. E. Chambers' mother-in-law' 
He said: 

" 'My boy, are you happy? I want to take you to my home 
and introduce you to the members of my family.' 

"I went with him. I saw there Mrs. Hatcher, Miss Orie 
and Miss Edith. When we entered he told them : 'This is my 
Chinese friend — Ah Fong Yeung and I want you all to be good 
to him.' We were in the dining room. The reason I remember 
it was Thanksgiving Day is because Miss Orie asked me if I 
would like to have some turkey. I said: 

" 'No thank you.' 

"Miss Orie thought that I did not know what a turkey was, 
so she asked: 

" 'Do you know what a turkey is?' 

"I replied: 'Something like a chicken.' 

"About half an hour afterward he took me back to Mrs. 
Hall's home. On the way back he asked: 

" 'Would you like to live with me?' 

"I said: 'Yes Sir.' 



454 



HIS NEW CHINESE BOY 






"Then he said: 'In a few days I will come for you again and 
you will then be a member of my family. In the meantime 
I want you to be a good boy. I dont want you to get home- 
sick — do you know what home-sick is now? — I want you to be 
always happy and cheerful?' 

"In a few days he came around again. 

" 'Well, how is my friend? Are you happy? Are you ready 
to go to my home now? All right, I will get some one to come 
for your belongings after awhile.' 

"From that day on I have been a member of his family. 
About two weeks afterwards he asked me to make a speech 
about myself. I did and he corrected it and he himself copied 
it for me from the typewriter. He then trained me to say 
that speech. My oratorical training began right here. He 
asked me to sing some Chinese songs for him at night when 
he was not busy. I did. The songs I sang that he liked the 
best were: 'Jesus bids us shine with a clear, pure light.' 'Ring 
the bells of Heaven.' When he polished me up a bit he tried 
me out at his Sunday afternoon Boys Meeting." 

Ah Fong wrote another speech, — this time about the boys in 
China and it ran as follows: 

"Some of the Chinese boys do not go to school, not because 
he is poor and not because his parents not like it, but because 
he dont like to go to school but he only likes to play all day 
long and to throw the rocks. This boy when he grow up a man, 
then he will be a beggar and so many boys like that in Canton. 
But I hope you all don't do that and I hope you all boys like 
to go to school, when you grow up to be useful men in this 
world." 



At the bottom of this little speech are written the words: 
"Miss Edith Logwood Hatcher required me to do that and 

she said 'If you not do that, I will not teach you.' " 

Another boy whom he was aiding in his education at this 

time was "Aubrey" who is referred to in the following letter 

to his daughter Elizabeth at Fork Union: 

"I hope to see you Monday. I suppose that I will bring up 
the Baptist Chinaman. He spent yesterday afternoon with us 
and was quite a stunning event in the household. 



COLEMAN M — 455 

"Tell Tommie and Aubrey that their letters are monu- 
mentally fine. I had to read them to others. Possibly one was 
better than the other but who can tell which it was." 

What had become of his Caroline boy, — Coleman, whom 
several years before, he had taken into his home and educated? 
A year or two before this, Coleman had caught the war fever 
and sped away with the army to the Philippines, but a letter 
came at this time which brought good cheer to Dr. Hatcher. It 
was to Mrs. Hatcher and read as follows: 

"Pozarrubio Luzon, P. I., December 18, 1900. 
"Dear Mrs. Hatcher, — I think of you every day and re- 
member all your great kindness and the more I think of it 
the more I appreciate what you have done for me. 

"Please give my love to Dr. H. and tell him that I am coming 
back to Virginia some day and do all in my power to wipe 
out any regret that he may feel at having taken in the little 
orphan boy eight years ago. 

"I am saving up money with which to go to school when I 
come back. 

"Dont give up all hope in me yet. I sent you a box of relics 
about six months ago which I thought might interest you. 
Hope you received them 0. K. 

"Ever Your Friend, 

"J. Coleman M ." 

"Care Regimental Hospital 

"13th U. S. Infantry. 

"Manila, P. I." 

January 6th, 1901, was one of the golden days of his life. On 
that day occured the dedication of his completed church 
building. For two years his people had been worshipping in 
the Sunday School room, but their beautiful auditorium was 
now finished. It was a day crowded with bright incidents. 
Telegrams, letters and messages were received; Dr. Battle 
the pastor and some of his members came over from their 
Baptist Church in Petersburg to present their congratulations. 

"Indeed" says the newspaper "Dr. Hatcher came near 
apologizing for the rare and exquisite loveliness of the building." 



456 DEDICATION OF HIS BUILDING 

In one of the services, "Dr. H. A. Bagby gave the congregation 
a genuine surprise by breaking into the service just after the 
dedicatory prayer and presenting to Dr. Hatcher a case of 
silver, — a 'costly and elegant gift — from the Baptist pastors 
of the city." One of the features of the dedicatory exercises 
was a speech by his Chinese boy, whom he trained for the 
occasion. With his united, devoted church and his magni- 
ficent building he faced a radiant future but, — though he 
hardly suspected it — he was on the threshold of a crisis. 

The dedication was scarcely ended before sickness laid him 
upon his back and while he was in this condition, there came a 
call from Richmond College that he would enter the educa- 
tional field as its representative. He had received such an offer 
in the Fall from the College, but had replied that he could 
not accept it. But now— now when an almost ideal pastoral 
opportunity opened before him, — his Alma Mater had renewed 
her appeal. For ten years he had been struggling for an adequate 
church edifice and his dream was at last realized, and yet his 
strained shoulders were keenly feeling the weight of the burden. 
Shortly before this, when he and his wife were walking through 
the new auditorium and she was congratulating him on having 
such a large and splendid audience room in which to preach 
in the future, he remarked: "Yes, and I am afraid it will kill 
me trying to fill it." 

"I'm sick and full of suffering this week" he writes me on 
January 25th. "The Grippe has used me badly and for several 
days I have been in torture from acute rheumatism. . . I 
wish I could see the little Norfolk family. Can't you send Wm. 
E. Jr. up for a little visit?" 

Orie adds to this note "Can't you come yourself? I think 
it would cheer him." 

"Your father" writes my mother on the 27th "suffers a 
good deal and I think wants you to come. He seems more 
depressed than I ever saw him. Cheerful company will do 
him good — but he is too weak to see many. . . Will expect 
you today." 




GRANDFATHER AND WILLIAM 



THE COLLEGE CALL 457 

He had been ordered off to Careby for quiet and rest and 
there he wrestled with his trio, — Rheumatism, Grippe and the 
College call. His beloved friend Dr. Charles Ryland, wrote 
him regarding the College matter: 

"I think I can see how out of this there may grow a yet more 
general movement for a consolidation of all Baptist interests 
and the coordination of the Baptist schools. I believe God has 
put it in my mind and heart to urge upon you this work and 
I cannot be quiet. 

"You know how dear you are to me. I would not do any- 
thing to hurt you, or to impair your influence. I would put 
a crown upon it. The crown is at the end of a great educa- 
tional uplift by your leadership. 

"Charles." 

The invitation brought him to deep reflection. His life-long 
friend, Dr. J. R. Bagby, a trustee of the College, wrote him: 

"And if you are to leave your great church ever it would 
be greatly better for the church and for you to do it while in the 
zenith of its glory. So you see how I feel. It is too big a 
question for me. I do not know what to say to one so dear to 
me as your dear self. . . Somehow I feel that this would be a 
splendid doxology to your richly useful life." 

He was now 67 years of age and his shoulders told him that 
they could not carry a large city pastorate for many more 
years. He said to me shortly after this, as we were walking 
one day away from his church: "The details of the pastorate 
are too heavy for me." His passion for "going" seemed to 
increase year by year. The position which was offered him 
by the College threw open to him the door of travel and gave 
him Virginia as his field, Virginia Baptists as his constituency, 
with Richmond as his headquarters, and with unlimited op- 
portunity for preaching and speaking. And so it came to pass 
that on Sunday morning, March 24th he spoke the fateful 
words to his fair and noble church with which he had been 
bound together in such a long and happy relationship. The 
church was smitten dumb with grief. He promised to remain 



458 



MAKING THE CHANGE 





1 







with them two months thus slowly untying the knot that had 
held them so sweetly. There was a double ingredient in his 
cup of sadness, for he felt that he was not only taking final 
leave of Grace Street Church but also of the pastorate. Is it 
surprising, therefore, that his wife should write: "Your father 
. . . is more knocked up by the severance of the church 
ties than I thought he would be. Heroic as he is he feels it 
very much." Again she writes: 

"Your father brought him [Dr. Dunaway] to dinner today. 
What will he do when he cannot invite his friends to 608 W. 
Grace. It is all right to call a halt for a time." 

To Edith, who was in New York pursuing a special course 
in music, he writes: 

"I have been alone in the house this week. The furniture 
has either gone the way of its destination or is at least packed 
and ready for going. Times are lonely." 

His Chinese boy, Ah Fong, tells of an interesting service: 

"I remember when he resigned from Grace Street Baptist 
Church. We had to move to the country, Fork Union. He 
had the Grace Street Church boys to hold their last meeting. 
That night the whole church was there. To my surprise it was 
mostly for me. Dr. Hatcher had some of the boys make 
speeches — bade me Godspeed, and had the boys to present me 
some presents. Of course I had to make a little speech — it 
was written by Dr. Hatcher. I remember that speech had a 
sentence like this: T am not ashamed to confess that I am a 
Chinese boy, for no boy ought to be ashamed of his country.' 
When he trained me on the speech and came to this sentence. — 
I might have said it without much energy, because he said: 
'Are you ashamed of China?' I answered: 'No.' " 'Then say 
it out like you mean it.' he said." 

His final Sabbath at Grace Street was a sorrowful and a never- 
to-be-forgotten day, and on the next night there was a 
reception at which his wife said she supposed she shook hands 
with a thousand people. "Once or twice" said she "I thought 






HIS "VALEDICTORY 459 

I would have to drop out and have a big cry." The reader need 
not be told that those were days when hearts were strained and 
if many a pang found its way into the pastor's soul who could 
be surprised or blame him. His church had never been more 
devoted to him than it was at that time and it was never in 
better condition, but he felt that duty now pointed him to the 
educational work. He waved his church a loving farewell, 
blessed them with his tender benedictions and moved out into 
his new field of labor with a bouyant step, and a hopeful heart. 
In his parting words to his church he said: 

"When I was installed as pastor here twenty-six years ago 
I said to the church that I would seek to be a good pastor, 
but that it must be understood that my labors could not be 
restricted to any one church. My heart was filled with larger 
things and I felt that my call was to help every good cause so 
far as it came in my power. This I have done. Some have 
blamed me for giving so much time to other things, but I 
really could not help it. The cry of the orphan, the lost con- 
dition of the nations of the earth, the education of the min- 
istry, the needs of the country churches and the appeals of our 
pastors and missionaries for my assistance were orders from 
heaven to me. I could not disregard them. 

"As I recall my activity in this way, I ask my self whether 
I robbed the church in order to do this out-side work. I do 
not think so. If I had narrowly clung to my post, going 
nowhere, helping nothing, getting all and giving nothing, I 
do not believe that this church would be better than it is today, 
for much of the life I put into this church I drew from other 
things." 

Even during these stressful days engagements were pulling 
him out into the state. He delivered at the funeral of Dr. C. L. 
Cocke of Hollins Institute an address which Dr. Hudnall of the 
Virginia Polytechnic Institute declared was the greatest 
address he ever heard. At the Southern Baptist Convention 
in New Orleans in May he found himself in a little friendly 
"tussle" in one of the sessions of the body. 

"But we had it lively on the New Board Business. X 



and Z led one side and I was with the opposition. 



460 DEATH OF DR. WYER 

They had the Goliah swagger and we were scared to our toes. 
But we planned in secret and won on the field. They were 

pitiful to behold and I was really concerned about poor Y 

He is in nervous prostration.' ' 

One day at the Convention at New Orleans he took Dr. C. S. 
Gardner aside and as they walked arm in arm he said to him: 

"Dr. Gardner you are to be my successor at Grace Street." 
"Oh Doctor" he replied "I cannot succeed you. I cannot 
attempt to fill your place at Grace Street. When I was a 
student at Richmond College I used to sit in the gallery at 
Grace Street church and hear your sermons and say to the 
students with me: ' Oh if I could some day preach like Dr. 
Hatcher.' 'No, Doctor, I could not take your place at Grace 
Street.' " 



I 



While he was in the throes of changing from Grace Street 
to Richmond College he was stunned by the news of the death 
of one of his most cherished friends, — Dr. H. H. Wyer. He 
writes as follows and his words give us another picture of that 
"passion for friendship", which burned so deeply in his soul. 

"Ah, here, indeed, is cause for tears. My friend for forty- 
four years, Dr. Henry H. Wyer, has closed his eyes on earthly 
scenes and gone to the land of his hope. My heart melts to 
call up this wintry night all my preacher friends but it cannot 
be invidious now to say that of all of them Wyer was the most 
loving and had in the highest degree, the art for cheering me 
in my cares and toils. 

"Who can tell, — truly I cannot, — the gentle sorrows that 
have filled my heart since the tidings came. Our life together 
has come back to me like a book, often read, and I have turned 
the pages, here and there, and read them with moistened eyes. 

"I said in the beginning that brother Wyer, of all my friends, 
loved me best. It has a selfish sound to speak of this, but I was 
irresistibly drawn to him by his manifest affection for me. Some 
on the card of my friendship I have had at times to doubt, but 
I never had a doubt of Wyer. He was chary enough in avowing 
his love but he was shining it out all the time. A day with him, 
was a fattening season for me. He could scatter the blues 
on a rainy day and, as for his letters they were honeycomb 
to my taste. His bosom was a rest for my head. 



HIS NEW TASK 461 

"I suppose that my friend had faults, but in some way, 
from the time we got interlinked at the old Strawberry, I never 
had any success in locating these faults. If he was not perfect 
he was far out that way and is there by now. I wave my 
greetings to his triumphant spirit as it enters the Celestial 
city. He makes Heaven more interesting. A little further on 
we will meet again. Until then, dear friend, good bye." 

His new educational work looms before him. It was twofold 
first, that of raising $75,000 to meet the conditional offer of 
$25,000 from the Rockefeller fund; and the second phase of his 
work, he declared, meant far more than mere money raising. 
He said it embraced "the thought of a thorough revival of our 
people in educational movements and the gathering of our 
schools into a common fellowship and in putting them in 
shape for fulfilling their destiny." In one sense his new position 
was that of Pastor-at -large, and by his preaching, his addresses 
and his personal intercourse he was to make his ministry as 
wide as the state and even much wider. To turn from pastoral 
to educational work required a mental realignment. It could 
not be surprising if the heart was slower in its readjustments 
than the brain. We cannot hurry the closing scenes of a twenty- 
six years' pastorate and we need not think it strange if some 
of Dr. Hatcher's letters at this time ran somewhat thus: 

To Kate: 

"I am trying to get my work in hand. It is a violent change in 
my life and I am oppressed with concern as to the result. But 
I have a simple purpose to do what I can and to leave the rest 
in the keeping of the Lord." 

To his wife on June 11th: 

"I am not as strong in my nerves as I formerly was and am 
having some anxiety in trying to adjust myself to my work. 
But I must keep serene and trust in the Lord." 

"I am still in the agonies of moving" he writes "I brought 
up two loads today [to the College] — one the rubbish and the 
other the bed, I am in a whirl of confusion and not very 









462 THE ROCKEFELLER CAMPAIGN 

cheerful today. I spent my last night in the house. It was a 
restless night and I have been nervous." 

In a few days, however, he was out upon the highway with 
his face towards his new task. He had in the last years of 
his life an ambition to increase his speed to the end rather 
than to lessen it. While others were speaking of "retiring" 
and of spending the "evening of their life" in a certain rest 
and calm, he yearned for just the opposite method of closing 
his career. His hope was that he could work up to the last 
moment and that, like the racer, he could gather in momentum 
as he sped forward, being swiftest in crossing the final line 
and could leap from the race track into the other world with 
the glow and vigor of the race upon him. 

His immediate work was a campaign to raise $75,000. The 
Rockefeller Board had offered the College $25,000, provided 
the College would raise $75,000 by January 1st and to the 
raising of this sum he now set his hand. He went to the Summer 
Associations, the first being the Dover, where his address — 
according to the Herald — "was so masterful and conclusive, 
interpreting so intelligently the true significance of the paper 
which the committee had brought in that it left nothing to be 
said". He was also at the Shiloh Association eagerly pressing 
his new work: 

"Dr. W. E. Hatcher of America was on hand" says the 
Herald "full of wit and good humor and overflowing with his 
great task — our great undertaking for our College. So versatile 
and broad — so wise a leader and so magnetic a personality 
is our own beloved Hatcher that his name is a household word 
in every home and his plea for education is masterly and all- 
prevailing." 

The Portsmouth was the last of the Summer Associations 
which he attended. 

"But I think the climax of the whole session" says the 
Herald "was that masterly speech and plea made by our 
beloved brother Hatcher. At first he spoke with but little 



7 1 



LETTERS TO CHILDREN 463 

animation, but, as he advanced, the audience, seemed to fall 
into sympathy with the speaker and to catch inspiration as he 
described vividly and eloquently the needs and claims of 
Richmond College. He arose higher and higher and finally 
his torrent of heart appeals swept the audience up with him 
and as we all came down together the sum of $3,500 was pledged 
and, what is far better, Dr. Hatcher sealed forever the hearts of 
the great audience for our own beloved College. Let us re- 
joice and take courage." 

Two of his letters to children written during these days of 
strain have been preserved, — the first to his granddaughter 
Virginia, at Careby, where all his grandchildren were gathered 
for the Summer. His stock of grandchildren had now in- 
creased to three, the two new ones being Katherine, the daugh- 
ter of Kate and William E. Jr., — my own son. To Virginia 
he writes : 

"How is my happy little charmer? I long to give you a kiss 
and a hug. I am far up in the mountains but it is burning hot 
up here. I wish you would kiss my lovely Katherine and 
tell her I want to see her. You must be very good to Wm. E. 
Jr. He is fat and fretful but he is fine. Then he is 'our boy' 
and we must treat him well." 

The other letter was written to his little namesake who was 
at that time only about one or two years old, the son of his 
cherished friend, Mr. J. R. Dickie, of Bristol, Va., who kindly 
sent me a copy of the letter: 

"Sept. 5th, 1901. 
"Master Earnest Hatcher Dickie: 

"My Dear Namesake, — I have your picture on my mantle 
in my office and I give you regular and affectionate greetings, 
whenever I am at home. You are well formed, perfectly 
quiet day and night, and never give me the least trouble. 
You showed great kindness — though not much gumption — 
in deciding to be my namesake. You ought to have asso- 
ciated your name with a better man, and but for your extreme 
youth and possibly some bad prompting on the part of your 
biassed kindred, I believe you would have struck the earth 
with some resounding name like "Gladstone," or "Edward the 
Eighth." 




464 EARNEST HATCHER DICKIE 

"But my dear namesake I do not complain. Indeed I feel 
quite tickled about the whole affair and accept you as one of 
my blood kin. We must be friendly with each other and seek 
to improve on our ancestry which, while fairly good, was not 
a circumstance to what we must try to be. I fear that I will 
not be much in the way of lifting you up, but you are so large 
and royal that I expect to rise by clinging to the skirts of your 
garments which I charitably suppose will grow shorter as you 
grow longer. You showed great prescience — an innate love of 
congruity — in being born at the crumbling edge of a dying 
century. You must have meant by it to say that you ask for a 
clean new deal, and did not wish to be mixed up with the 
confusion and misdoings of the past. Good for you my, won- 

Iderfully handsome namesake. You start strong and happy 
and I am praying that you may increase in strength and wisdom 
to the end. You may decide to remain on earth longer than I 
do, and, if so, I will expect you to guard my memory and take 
up my work. I want you to get a high, fine education and then 
use it in helping others to be educated. Do not forget this. 
I am not sure that you will be able to read this, for I am not a 
clear writer and several persons of your age have indicated to 
me that they could not decipher my writings and several of 
these youthful personages have taken letters and things which 
I wrote and torn them up as if in very contempt. You must 
behave better than that. Have this letter read to you by one 
of your still extant ancestors, and then later tell me how you 
like me. I expect you will like me for I like my self tolerably 
well, though my feeling is modified by my too intimate know- 
ledge of myself. I want you to know me, but not too inti- 
mately at first. It might cause trouble between us. 

"There is one thing on which we must surely stand together. 
Ever since I was a boy I have been a lover of Jesus Christ. 
I know him well and have seen the good things that he has 
done for others and for me and I think we must put him above 
everybody, even our Mothers. As soon as possible I want you 
to know him and I will tell Him about you and ask him to 
look after you. They know Him at your house and will tell 
you about Him. 

"Your Namesake, 

"William Eldridge Hatcher." 

His experience with this fine little lad had some later chap- 
ters. When he grew older he and Dr. Hatcher became fast 



PATIENCE WITH BOYS 465 

friends and one night at the supper table the little fellow heard 
his papa say that Dr. Hatcher would reach Bristol that night 
and was coming to their house. The father said that as Dr. 
Hatcher's arrival would be considerably after their supper was 
over he would meet the Doctor at the train and if he had not 
gotten his supper on the train that he would take him to a 
restaurant for his supper. Little Earnest, in some way, picked 
up the idea that there might be some uncertainty about 
Doctor Hatcher getting his supper. When, an hour or so later, 
his mother was putting him to bed, and came to take off his 
clothes she found his blouse bulging with a good supply of 
biscuits which the little fellow informed her he was keeping 
for Dr. Hatcher's supper. 

Mr. Dickie says that he wrote Dr. Hatcher, inviting him to 
pay him a visit at his winter home in Florida, and Dr. Hatcher 
replied regretfully that he could not come, saying: "Poverty 
has always been one of my besetting sins." 

His labors for the College were interspersed with dedicatory 
sermons and all manner of ministerial activities. He had two 
or three boys in his Fork Union home at this time whom he was 
helping in their education and who often gave him much 
pleasure in the progress they made; but sometimes they would 
try his patience. And yet when he had once taken a boy in 
hand he rarely lost hope of him. He thus writes to his wife 
after reaching Richmond from Careby Hall: 

"I was distressed to see that X was sulky and un- 
happy last week. He has been spoiled lately and you must 
keep him away from the public. He needs to avoid excitement 
and be kept at work. Tell him that I grieve very much that he 
was not bright and pleasant when I was there. I intend to 
treat him kindly but he must not put on airs. He must be 
humble and pleasant. Things may go wrong with him but 
he must not be sitting around looking mad, I cannot stand 
that. Do not let others know when you have any bother with 
him. We must be patient with him and not be discouraged 
by any boyish follies he may show." 






466 THE MCKINLEY CELEBRATION 

To his great pleasure Dr. C. S. Gardner became his successor 
at Grace Street Church and had a pastoral career there that 
was very successful. Dr. Hatcher, soon after he had resigned 
the Grace Street pastorate, was taken sick at the home of one 
of .his members and while lying on the couch became delirious 
and suddenly he called out, " Whether I live or die, Gardner 
must be pastor of Grace Street: Gardner must be pastor of 
Grace Street." The church had then not settled upon any one 
for pastor. This remark of Dr. Hatcher was heard by members 
of the family. 

After Dr. Gardner had entered upon his pastorate Dr. 
Hatcher, in pleasant banter, said to him one day: "Gardner, you 
would never have gotten to Grace Street if I had not called 
you when. I was delirious." 

The whole world had been shocked by the shooting of Pres- 
ident McKinley, but the tidings went forth that his wound was 
healing and that he would recover. It was accordingly planned 
by the Cabinet at Washington and the Directors of the Buffalo 
Exposition to hold two Thanksgiving services in honor of the 
President's expected recovery. Six men from different sections 
of the United States, were selected as the speakers and Dr. 
Hatcher was one of the men invited. But alas, the beloved 
president did not recover and, in the place of the expected 
thanksgiving, came, in a few days, the universal mourning. 

The "Rockefeller Campaign' i — as the present College effort 
to raise the $75,000 was called — now waxed warm. January 
1st began to loom dangerously near and yet only a small 
portion of the amount had been raised. The Herald put one 
of its pages at his disposal and every week he filled the page 
with breezy items about the campaign. 

"His soul is on fire to get the money" writes my mother 
the later part of November. "He has been through similar, 
though not equal, experiences before, in the building of his 
church when everything was made subsidiary to the one idea. 
I am hoping that his health may not succumb to it. If he can 
only have his health we shall be thankful. He reminds me of 



REACHING THE GOAL 467 

the man in quest of the ancient pottery art — I cant call his 
name now — who was reduced to the straits of burning his own 
furniture to keep up the fire in the furnace where he was seeking 
to melt the old pottery. Such determination, with faith, must 
succeed. 

"He came over here [at Mr. W. R. Jones' in Richmond] 
and enjoyed a game of backgammon immensely. It would 
have done you good to hear him 'halloa' when he gammoned 
Mr. Jones. He needs more such recreation, but he will not 
take it now." 

That was a campaign indeed. He sprang into the fray with 
the ardor and dash of a boy. He sniffed the air of battle and 
liked it. "That $75,000" said he "must be raised". From the 
College he directed the movement and yet he also hurried from 
point to point throughout the state, speaking and holding 
conferences with individuals. By pen arid tongue he kept the 
Virginia Baptists on the qui vive as to the final out come. When 
the last day arrived the telegraph and telephone wires were 
called into requisition and when the clock struck twelve that 
night the goal had been reached. 

"The contents of the mails on the last days of December" 
he writes, "were quite amazing. By noon on the 30th it was 
clear that there was a sacred landslide in favor of the $75,000, 
and before midnight on the 31st the Endowment Committee 
had had its meeting, examined its receipts and decided that 
the contest had been settled on the right side. The $75,000 has 
been secured and Mr. Rockefeller's offer accepted in a sub- 
stantial and satisfactory way." 

To his beloved Careby he sped after the wind-up of the 
campaign and bathed his soul in its quiet and its beauty. 

He had an interesting experience with Ah Fong who tells 
of it as follows: 

"I remember the Christmas of 1901. All the folks went 
away to the city and all the boys at Careby went home. So 
I was the only person to guard Careby Hall in the country. 
A few days after Christmas Dr. Hatcher wrote me a postal 
saying that he will come that day to see 'my boy'. He came 



468 WITH AH FONG AT CAREBY 

on the night train. It so happened that Aubrey Hudgins 
came back that day; so he went to Bremo to meet him, while I 
went to a Christmas party at Mr. Sadler's home with full 
intention to come back at nine o'clock to see Dr. Hatcher. I 
was, however, too much taken up with the jovilities of the 
Christmas party that I did not get home until two next morn- 
ing. I got up early next morning and went directly to Dr. 
Hatcher's room, fully expecting a hearty welcome; on the 
contrary I was received very coolly. 

" * Where were you last night?' 

"I told him I was at a Christmas party. 

"He said: 'I expected to have a little party last night with 
you, but I was greatly disappointed. I have bought some cakes, 
oranges, banannas, candies and lots of good things, but no one 
was here to enjoy them with me.' 

"Then we walked out to the yard and there were some 
chunks of wood lying on the ground. They were thrown out by 

from their windows when they could not put them 

into their stoves. When Dr. Hatcher saw the woods he began 
to scold me, because he thought I had thrown those pieces 
of woods out of the window. He gave me a lecture on an un- 
grateful boy. After a little while Aubrey came to my rescue 
and told him the exact truth. Then he said: 

" 'I am going to Cifax [in Bedford county] this afternoon; 
do you want to go with me? Lewis Thompson ask you to come 
to see him this Christmas. , I told him that I will go with him, 
but he did not give me any of the good things which he intended 
for me that Christmas." 

With the Rockefeller campaign brought to a close he devoted 
himself now to the larger and to the general phases of his work. 
There were several Baptist schools in the state in addition to 
Richmond College. Some of these institutions were on tremb- 
ling foundations and there seemed a need for a better denom- 
inational understanding regarding these schools and a closer 
cooperation among them. To the questions growing out of this 
situation and also to the general work of Christian education, 
within the bounds of his denomination in the state, he now 
devoted himself. 



CHAPTER XXXV 
1902—1903 

HIS GRANDCHILDREN. SUNDAY SCHOOL LECTURES. VERSATILITY. 

THE CAMPAIGN FOR BRISTOL. CHRISTMAS REUNION. PATIENCE 

WITH BOYS. SAINT JOSEPH, MO. EDITORIAL PARAGRAPHS. 

A fresh chapter had already been opened in his life and that 
was his experience with his three grandchildren. Their arrival 
on the scene introduced him into a new world of happiness, — 
and when the Summer put in its appearance each year he 
began to clamor for them. 

"It might possibly be well for you to say to Wm. E. Jr. M 
he writes to my wife "that the sordid dust, whose name he 
adorns hopes to podder in upon him Friday night in time to see 
him put to bed — or words to that effect." 

He delivered at this time a course of lectures at the Southern 
Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville. The Sunday 
School Board, in conjunction with the Seminary Faculty, 
decided to inaugurate a series of lectures to be delivered each 
year at the Seminary on "The Sunday School" and they asked 
Dr. Hatcher to deliver the opening series. Dr. J. M. Frost,, the 
Secretary of the Board, wrote him that his forthcoming addresses 
at the Seminary would enable him "to set the tune for the whole 
Baptist brotherhood of the South on the great Sunday School 
question." 

He delivered five addresses which were said to be 
epoch-making in Sunday School work in the South. The 
lectures, which had as their general subject, "The 






470 THE PASTOR AND THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 

Pastor and the Sunday School", were five in number and 
treated of the following subjects: 

1. "The pastor at the Door". Under this head he said : "We 
may rightly challenge the pastor at the door of the Sunday 
School and ask to examine his credentials. Before he enters 
let him approve himself worthy of a place in the School." 

2. "The Pastor on the Inside." 

3. "The Pastor Abroad". "Nowhere is the pastor more 
pleasant to behold than when we catch sight of him as, quitting 
his closet, dropping book and pen, parting from family and 
company, he sallies forth to see the people." 

4. "The pulpit and the Sunday School". "It remains for 
us in this closing lecture in the series to study the work of the 
pastor in harvesting the fruit of the Sunday School." 

The following are some paragraphs culled from his lectures: 

"It is, I confess, with a blush that I appear on this platform 
with a manuscript in hand. It is an outrage upon my own 
record and a dangerous example for this community and my 
comfort is that my own awkward manipulation of this for- 
midable document may prove an example for warning and not 
for imitation." 

"Ah, the coming of the pastor [into the Sunday School] ought 
to be the sunlight of heaven to that school. The smile on his 
face, the cordial handshake, the bouyant words, his whole 
personality, next to the unction of the Holy Spirit, ought to 
constitute the crowning glory of the school." 



"These country folks are a sight, I tell you. They can sample 
a man, relentlessly reduce him to his original elements and 
weigh and label the ingredients at their market value." 

"The worst thing that can get on a minister's coat is a debt 
and that dress suits the pastor best which is so complete that 
it escapes observation." 

"It is well for us to understand that the most of life is wrapped 
up, not in our individuality, but in our relationship. Our chief 
joys as well as out impartations of power, are transmitted to us 
along the ties which bind us to others." 



THE PASTOR AND THE SUNDAY SCHOOL 471 

"A pastor can afford to study closely for five years in order 
to catch the art of speaking seriously and effectively to children.' • 

"I confess that I was always ashamed of my doings as a 
pastor, — it was always so far below the standard. I was 
ashamed that I did so little — did that little so imperfectly — 
did so much to discredit the little done — had motives so mixed, 
had sermons meanly made and stupidly preached, made visits 
so unmeaning, and purposeless, played with my studies, 
drooped in my prayers, had so little fruit harvested and that 
so languidly, loved my people so little and gave them so little 
reason for loving me, frittered away my time and lost chances 
all the way. ... I almost quiver with the masterful 
hope that if I could enter the list [of pastors] again I would 
touch the radiant crown of the mount of the faithful. But, 
No; it is not for me. They give no second trials. But young 
man yonder is the mountain, yonder the winding track, yonder 
the climbers; go in, go in with flying feet and in the name of the 
Lord, and you may be the first to see the sun set from the 
mountain top." 

"But no preacher need ever to hope to discover the wants 
of his church by simply using the pulpit for his observatory." 

"But, it is hardly too much to say that a boy will get more 
out of a sermon even when he does not listen, and retain more 
at least than old people, when they do listen. I have some- 
times said that the children can absorb more than they hear 
and it is true, beyond a doubt, that they can fidget, whisper, 
gaze around, pinch and scratch each other and indulge many 
sly smiles and yet carry away a deal of the sermon. They 
catch the truth on the fly. 

"Once I preached on Sunday morning on the Christian 
armor and gave each piece of the armor and defined the pur- 
pose of each of these parts. That afternoon, at the Boys 
Society which was one of the established organizations of the 
church for over twenty-five years, I questioned the boys as to 
the armor. It was gratifying to find that many of them could 
name every part and state what it was intended to represent. 
They had not expected to be examined." 

"As a fact people cannot long endure a compact, intense, 
burning sermon — it wears them out. Deep impressions must 
be made quickly, or not at all." 

"It is the princeliest deed of the Christian life to save a soul." 



472 



VERSATILITY 






"It is a marvel how he has the strength for all his various 
undertakings." said Dr. E. Y. Mullins regarding Dr. Hatcher's 
busy life at this time. My mother wrote from Careby: "Your 
father certainly needed the rest which he is getting here. He 
has been on the bed most of the time and sleeps as soon as he 
touches it." He said that the preparation of his Sunday 
School Notes for the Baptist Teacher each week was a taste 
of sermon making to him that was very sweet. He was now 
writing his Sunday School lectures for publication in book 
form, — "a huge task to be done in two weeks." Regarding 
this book when it appeared the "Baptist and Reflector" said: 
"Dr. Hatcher, as a writer, is among the happiest in power of 
expression and practical thought in America. His name to a 
book is all that is needed. . . To find a match for W. E. 
Hatcher you will likely search more than one continent." 

"To the boundless torture of my toe" he writes Elizabeth 
at Fork Union, "I have gotten some butter ready for you. It 
comes up this morning." 

The startling fact about his life, however, was not its variety, 
but its versatility. He won distinction not by being a worker 
in so many departments but by being a specialist in so many 
departments. He had a "passion for the best". There were 
some spheres for which he was not fitted and he would make no 
pretensions in that direction. He felt that he had no talent 
for clerical, or secretarial, labor and he would declare: "I 
have no sense in such work," or "When it comes to that I am 
stupidity personified". But when he once entered a path he 
sought to keep in the lead. "What a multiform specialist was 
the Nestor of the Virginia ministry", said Dr. Hudnall, 
"preacher, pastor, evangelist, editor, writer, author, educator, 
and this is not all. To be of vast usefulness in various direc- 
tions a man must needs possess, in an eminent degree, a rare 
combination of qualities. . . An eminent divine said of 
Dr. Hatcher: 'He did everything with distinction.' " 

"He was a great debater" says Dr. George B. Taylor, "a 
clear thinker, a preacher of unusual power, a master of assem- 






VERSATILITY 473 

blies, a wondeful raconteur, a quick discerner and a discrimi- 
nating portrayer of human nature, a delightful companion, a 
wise counselor, a charming writer." 

He would have made an incomparable United States Sen- 
ator," said Dr. P. T. Hale "a brilliant and successful lawyer, 
and would have adorned the tripod in the editorial sanctum 
of the greatest journal." 

"It will require many, many men" writes Dr. Landrum "to 
give us a life-size portrait, for Dr. Hatcher was a many-sided 
man, and will be fully known and properly interpreted only 
when all his friends have joined their eulogistic labors." 

Dr. J. M. Frost writes in similiar vein: 

"His life was too many-sided, too diversified and full, covered 
too large a territory and too many years for any one man to 
even outline and put down in print for the reader." 

It is interesting to note the realms in which he was eminent. 
As preacher and pastor and writer he was accorded first place. 
When it came to taking collections, or to dedicating churches, 
or to having a capacity for friendship, or to finding recreation 
in gaming, or to dealing with boys, or to endulging in wit or 
humor, in fact, as Dr. Frost says — "think of him as you may 
you readily accord him the leadership as if that were his spec- 
ialty." Some of the most restless moments of his life were 
probably those when he saw some one outstripping him. 

From Warrenton where he was conducting revival meetings 
he wrote the first of a long list of letters to his grandson, Wil- 
liam E. Jr. 

"Warrenton, Va., March 30, 1902. 

"My Matchless Wm. E., Jr., — Your grandmother sent me 
your picture today. It was quite fine and showed that you 
were in blooming health. I do not recall that the original Wm. 
E. ever had his picture taken when eighteen months old and if 
it had been done I am not sure that he would have shown to 
such superb advantage as you do. But that is not to be won- 
dered at — Wm. E's are improving stock — they get better every 
time and the Wm. E's of the future will be simply wonderful — 



474 THE BIRTHDAY HOUSE PARTY 

at least more wonderful than the present Wm. E's, though the 
present Wm. E's are beyond all doubt full-orbed wonders. 
There are none others like them, — though I must admit that 
the servant [William's mother] who had you in her lap when 
your picture was taken has a striking face. 

"Give your father great love and tell him that he is fortunate 
in being the parent of a Wm. E. but that he must suffer often 
from the feeling that he can never be a Wm. E. That is a link 
above his jump. 

"Grandfather has been sick — an insignificant thing and now 
it is over. 

"With much pomp and love. 

"Wm. E. 1." 

He would often write speeches and dialogues for the boys 
at the Academy Commencement and frequently would train 
them, though his daughter Elizabeth rendered very valuable 
service in this regard. "Do your best on the boys" he writes 
to Elizabeth "and have them on hand for me Tuesday after- 
noon [for his rehearsing them]. Put Ah Fong along on his 
speech." At this Commencement Lieut. Gov. Willard (pres- 
ent Embassador to Spain) addressed the boys. "Great times 
at Fork Union" he wrote me, "Aubrey took the glories." 
Aubrey was one of the boys in his home whose entire support 
and education he was carrying and of course he was delighted 
to see one of his proteges thus triumphant. 

Out at Bristol was a great Baptist School with splendid 
buildings but with a debt that threatened financial collapse. 
$12,000 was needed to save the day and Dr. Hatcher, being, 
asked by the Education Commission to undertake the raising 
of that amount, set himself to the task. 

The family decided to give him a House Party on his 68th 
birthday in July. He asked that it be given on his brother 
Harvey's birthday which would occur a few days later, and 
this plan was followed. The two brothers reveled in each 
others' company. Harvey, two years his senior, came on from 
Georgia. Other guests were on hand, — some of them his 
kindred from Bedford. Dr. Boatwright, President of Richmond 



"AN OLD FRIEND" 475 

College, wrote him that every one of his birthdays "marked an 
epoch in Southern Baptist history. " 

The Birthday gathering had its sorrowful aspect also. He 
writes: "The meeting of my kindred after such long separa- 
tions played heavily upon my heart. My soul was stormed 
all the time with memories and heartaches as I thought of my 
friends and loved ones who were not there to greet me." On 
the second birthday of his grandson he writes: 

"My Beloved William, — I greet you on your birthday 
and wish you peace and honor. It is a most interesting ex- 
perience to be two years old and you will have to show your- 
self a fine specimen of a boy. A blubbering two year old, 
is not a pleasing sight. . . I must remind you that it is 
now time that you were learning to talk. Grunts and cries 
are cute and fascinating to blinded mothers but I remind you 
that they are not good English. 

"Begin to get ready for the future. You will be expected to 
take a large and laborious part in the affairs of this world 
and you must get ready for it. I hope that you may be a min- 
ister of the gospel, as your father and grandfather are, and as 
both of your great grandfathers were. But the Lord must 
decide that. Fear and follow him and he will show you the 
path of duty. 

"Your devoted Grandfather, W. E. H." 

He spends a few days in restful fellowship with his life-long 
friend, Dr. J. R. Bagby at Mr. Floyd Moon's in Cumberland 
County, and writes me: "You know not yet the value of an 
old friendship. You may know hereafter." "Ah, how good it 
feels" says Longfellow "the hand of an old friend. King 
James used to call for his old shoes — they were easiest for his 
feet." As Dr. Hatcher grew older he turned more eagerly to 
those friends of his early days. 

For the next three or four months he labored for Bristol. 
He resolved that he would never again undertake such emer- 
gency work. "That Rockefeller business told on me severly" 
he writes "and now I am going through the racking agonies 
of Bristol." To Edith he wrote, in December, "I have worn 



476 FROLICS WITH THE GRANDCHILDREN 

my soul to frazzles in working for Bristol and am yet in great 
terror lest disaster is to be my only reward. It looks that way 
now." Men do their work best when the work is congenial. 
But in his case his campaigns for money went against his 
grain. Just a short while before this, in telling of his joy in 
preaching, he said: "It is a bigger thing to save souls than to 
flounder around in this hard world looking for money.' ' And 
yet his sunny optimism came to his rescue. No doleful note 
touched his lips in his journeys. The College was a kind mas- 
ter, and was wonderfully appreciative and sympathetic towards 
him in his work. 

Christmas was one of the high peaks in the year for him 
because it meant a family reunion at Careby. The grandchild- 
ren were his best medicine and he could fling his burdens to the 
winds in his revels with the children. He would begin each 
day with a frolic. Every morning before the family were 
dressed — or even out of bed — he would step to his door and 
shout through the capacious house: "Vir-gin-y-a-h-h!! Kath- 
rin-n-n!! Wil-yum-m-m!!" and as the sound went ringing up 
stairs and into the rooms what a flutter it would cause! Up 
from the bed would jump Virginia and Katherine and William — 
all in a tremor of expectancy — and such a scampering down 
stairs there would be — not waiting to be dressed but hurrying 
to grandfather's room, for they knew there were "goodies" 
and royal talks with grandfather awaiting them. They were a 
hilarious group as they jumped into grandfather's bed and 
kept up a ceaseless chatter as the good things began rapidly to 
disappear. 

He had already trained them how they should answer his 
morning summons. When he called out "Virginia" she was ex- 
pected to answer from her room immediately "All right: I'm 
coming" and so with the other two. Sometimes the suddenly 
awakened grandchild would utter a feeble, "I'm coming" which 
would not reach the ears of grandfather, and so there would come 
another resounding call: "Vir-gin-yeh-h-h" and by this time 
Virginia would be answering and grandfather would be made 



WORKING ON THE BOYS AT CAREBY 477 

fully aware that Virginia was coming. In fact there were none 
by this time in the large house, or on the grounds that were not 
amply familiar with the fact, — "the grandchildren are coming" 

This before-breakfast romp was the fore-runner of many 
happy experiences for the young ones during the day. Grand- 
father's closet, with its boxes and bundles, was the enchanted 
spot for the children. That was the treasure house that seemed 
to have no limit, nor bottom, and consequently they cultivated 
the most intimate acquaintance with grandfather during the 
hours of the day. But it was not the "goodies" alone that 
constituted the magnet. The little ones loved grandfather. 
They thought he was grand: he was so jolly — had such fine 
questions to ask them, such glorious stories to tell them and 
such funny things to say to them. He kept them on their 
mettle for they knew that he was strict with them on certain 
points and that they had to toe the mark in their good behavior. 
In one of his letters to Edith he wrote: "I had an imperial 
time with Virginia last week. She is a fountain of delight to me 
and her devotion to me is worthy of my best love and attention." 

The Christmas season passed, the children and grandchildren 
melted away, and the Academy students began to pour in 
from their homes. The boys whom Dr. Hatcher was aiding, 
in special ways, gave him much joy, but sometimes they put 
thorns in his pillow. They were not angelic in their make-up 
and sometimes they would fly the track, much to the grief of 
their benefactor, Dr. Hatcher, and yet his patience seemed 
inexhaustible. There was one boy at the Academy that seemed 
well nigh hopeless but Dr. Hatcher would not give him up. 

"I am in tribulation about C the Little" he writes 

to Elizabeth "I could not reach his father and may not see him 
for some days. If you feel like talking to the little thing — he 
is only a child in moral development — and trying to lift him up 
a little I would be glad. But do not do it if it would strain you 
in the least. I was pleased by your saying that we ought to 
save him. I am much in doubt about him but I have not yet 
relaxed my grasp upon him." 



478 WORKING ON THE BOYS AT CAREBY 

Yet another case may be mentioned. In his letter of Feb- 
ruary 23rd he writes to his Chinese boy at Fork Union (not 
Ah Fong) whom he was befriending. This youth had decided 
that he wanted to quit the Academy and return to New York. 
Dr. Hatcher sought to save him from such a surrender by 
writing him: 

"I was hoping that you would remain until you were pre- 
pared for College. I was very sorry to read your statement that 
you felt the studies were too hard at the Academy. You must 
not be afraid of hard things. If you ever become a man it 
will be by hard work and you ought not to run away from your 
studies because they are hard. 

"Besides, your report is a good one. It shows that you are 
getting along well and I have no doubt that you will continue 
to improve. 

"But I will not think ill of you if you go back to New York. 

"I had already paid your tuition in the Academy for the 
rest of the session. I do not see how you can leave Fork Union 
until I get there. 

"Your Friend, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

One of the boys whom he was aiding had run away from Fork 
Union but Dr. Hatcher found him and sent him back to Fork 
Union bearing the following letter to Edith : 

"I send you a note by the returning prodigal. I trust that 
Careby Hall will welcome him back and seek to build up his 
crippled fortunes. He is the weak member of the Academic 
household and we must save him if it is possible. All I ask 
is that the female side of the institution will bolster him and 
help him to start afresh. 

"I must compliment you on your skill in training the orches- 
tra. I wish that you would give lessons on -some stringed 
instruments. That would be more popular with the boys than 
the piano. Not so profitable, I suppose." 

Such efforts as are indicated by these letters — all written 
within the space of two or three months — he was ever making 
to save and train the boys. 



BRISTOL SAVED 479 

To William E., Jr., he writes: 

"I was as happy as Katherine's kitten when I got your 
letter. 

"I was at Careby Hall last Sunday. That morning I opened 
the door and shouted "C-h-i-1-d-r-e-n-!" and here they came, — 
Virginia and Lewis, Katherine and Harry, all tumbling, rolling, 
jumping on the bed and we almost made apples and banannas 
get up and fly — we ate them so fast. Katherine said: 'We 
ought to have William' and all of them said: 'That is so/ Then 
we talked about you as hard as ever we could and all of us 
wanted to see you. Virginia wanted to kiss you. Harry 
wanted to hug you, Lewis wanted to peel apples for you, 
Katherine wanted to play paper dolls with you and grand- 
father wanted to carry you to the table and butter buckwheat 
cakes for you. Oh, we had a lovely time, but we missed you. 
Just wait until Summer and wont we have a jolly time. 

"I suppose you never cry now — you are too large and big 
to cry. You must see that your mother does not get sick 
again. If you will wait on her and keep her from working too 
hard, you may save her from getting sick. Do all you can to 
help her — remember this." 

He went to Macon, Georgia where he preached every morn- 
ing at the Mercer University and every night at the First 
Church. 

His Bristol campaign had triumphed and he was able to 
announce in the Herald of March 10th: "Bristol is saved. 
That which the Baptists of Virginia undertook to do has been 
accomplished." This Bristol College is today one of the largest 
and most prosperous Baptist institutions for the education 
of young women in the South. 

In April he held revival meetings in St. Joseph, Missouri. 
Dr. J. E. Cook, the pastor, in whose home he was entertained, 
writes of Dr. Hatcher's visit. After speaking of "the gigantic 
labors of his mind and heart this last half century" he thus 
continues : 

"The first sight of Dr. Hatcher at the station gave me the 
impression that he was getting old. But this man is full of 
surprises and if he had been a general I wager his reputation 



480 MEETINGS AT SAINT JOSEPH 

for flank movements would be second not even to Stonewall 
Jackson. 

"By the way the old Confederates almost cheered him for 
his resemblance to General Lee. Dr. Hatcher did not like that 
very well. He did not think it helped either Lee or himself. 

"After I had kept up with him sight-seeing and had kept 
my single-tree even with his in the meeting and had observed 
his overflowing wit and good humor in conversation and had been 
nearly worn out with his pranks with the children I felt almost 
as if he had buncoed me through his old age "make up" — to 
use an expression which a preacher has no business to under- 
stand. 

"I asked Dr. Hatcher if he felt that he had yet preached his 
best sermons. 'No; but I think I have preached my worst 
one,' he replied. If there ever was a time of the day whea 
Dr. Hatcher was a little below his normal temperature of hope 
and courage and abundant life it was just before going to bed 
at night, with the day's work done and never as well done as he 
wanted it done. Expressive of a little downheartedness he was 
used sometimes to say: 'Brer Hatcher got no friends V And so 
to me the most striking trait in the man was his big heart for 
so many folk of all ages and conditions and his entire self 
forgetfulness for the good of his friends and especially for boys 
trying to get an education. And Brer Hatcher got friends, 
myriads of them in Heaven and on earth and will have them in 
the years to come while children's children remember the shep- 
herd and helper of their fathers and mothers." 

It was during these later years that some of us in the family — 
with a few outside — began to call him "Brer Hatcher" and 
he would often speak of himself by that name. It started from 
a little incident during his Grace Street pastorate. He had in 

his church a very ardent admirer, — John E , a brother 

of feeble mental endowment. John declared that his pastor 
was the best of all preachers on the globe and he never tired 
of singing his praises. One night in some revival meetings at the 
church, conducted by Dr. H. M. Wharton, he said at the close 
of the service: "Dr. Wharton, that was a fine sermon you 
preached, a mighty fine sermon." The next night he said the 
same thing and one night, when he was highly praising the ser- 
mon, Dr. Wharton said to him: 



"BRER HATCHER" 481 

"You liked it, did you, John?" 

"Oh, yes, Dr. Wharton, that was certainly a fine sermon. 
You certainly are a fine preacher." 

"You think I am a fine preacher, John? You think I can 
beat Dr. Hatcher, don't you, John?" 

"Oh, yes — Ahem — Well, I don't know about that, for Brer 
Hatcher do' de best he can." 

Of course Dr. Wharton jocularly rang the changes on John's 
declaration and Brer Hatcher had no remarks to make about 
it until one day at the General Association when a brother 
begged for his aid in a collection in the Association for his 
church. Dr. Hatcher who was presiding, finally yielded and 
arose, and told the story of Dr. Wharton and John and applied 
it to the case then in hand, by pointing to the importunate 
preacher then at his heels and saying that he did not see that 
he could do anything for him in the Association "but" he 
said "Brer Hatcher will do de best he can". The result was 
that the delegates followed in rapid order doing the best they 
could for the benefit of the needy brother. Many were the 
times about the home when matters were a little heavy, or 
draggy, with him, and he would say with a sort of mock 
gloominess: "Brer Hatcher got no friends." 

There was a little couplet which he was fond of humming 
in his room. I do not remember a period in his life that he 
would not at times murmur the lines : 

"Up and down the river, we will go; 

"Up and down the river, and never come back any more." 

The last words of the second line would be somewhat mourn- 
fully drawn out and I can remember how as a boy those words 
"never come back any more" would always make me feel he 
was thinking of death; at any rate they made me think of his 
dying and going far away, never to return. He would hum 
them, sometimes while walking up and down his room dressing, 
and sometimes while seated in his arm chair, apparently in a 
meditative mood, — not necessarily when he seemed worried 



482 EDITORIAL PARAGRAPHS 

or gloomy, but often when his manner was cheerful, — and yet 
those closing words would always have in them a dismal 
suggestion. 

Possibly the reader would be interested in some of the 
paragraph products of his pen. Every week his editorial 
column bristled with items about men and things. For example, 
in the issue of April 11th he paid a tribute to a Baptist leader 
in Texas, Dr. J. B. Gambrell, who, he says "is a hero and has 
never found it out." He closes with the following words: 

"We waft our greetings to the Texas leader. If we envy 
him, it is part of our tribute of admiration. Let Texas Bap- 
tists pile burdens on his shoulders and he will carry them. 
Let the disorganizers spit venom on him; he can stand it; 
let hosts rise against him, yet he will be confident. He asks 
no crown and fears no cross." 

"An unanswered prayer shows that there is something the 
matter with the prayer." 

After writing about the all-night prayers of the Bible he 
adds : 

"Those who have failed to get a reply must recast their 
attempts. Let them plan a night attack and keep up the fight 
until the break of day. God is always near at the break of day. 
Try Jacob's scheme of prayer and you may get Jacob's crown." 

"We are no admirer of the common house-fly. He is an annoy- 
ance and a nuisance. He is a disturber of the repose of the 
community. He promotes the use of immoral adjectives. He 
tempts all of us to assert that he is worse this Summer than 
ever before — which probably is not so. He wakes the baby, 
exasperates the cook, lights in the butter, tumbles into the 
milk, buzzes, flutters and bites. He has no human friend in 
all the earth — no one to praise him while he lives and no one 
to weep for him and to compose his epitath when he dies. 

"Now give a house-fly his dues. He may be despicable, 
but there is one thing that may be said to his honor — he does 
not bother us at night. He is no nocturnal marauder. Put 
out your light and go to bed and he will let you rest. He 



EDITORIAL PARAGRAPHS 483 

keeps good business hours. He will not strike a man in the 
dark. It is true that he usually stays until after tea and is 
certain to open his shop very early in the morning but he 
never takes advantage of us by pouncing upon us in the bed 
in the dark of the night. He has at least this negative virtue 
and there is comfort in it." 

He seems not to have the same friendly feeling for the church- 
going dog as for the stay-at-home fly. Out in the country 
one day a man said to him: 

"Brother Hatcher, I was leading in prayer in the church 
and I heard a noise and my first feeling was that the devil 
was in church. Upon opening my eyes I found that it was a 
dog, — one of my dogs. I was greatly relieved." 

To this Dr. Hatcher replied in the Herald : 

"For our part we still think that whenever a dog goes into 
church, the devil is apt to come with him. It is well when we 
go to the house of the Lord to leave the devil and the dogs 
behind." 

Some one asked him his opinion regarding a certain gentle- 
man and his reply in the Argus was: "He seems to live on bad 
terms with success of all sorts, — an aimable, nonconstructive, 
warbling brother, whom I rather like and yet I would feel it 
a sin to encourage you to put him at the head of the Academy." 

"Several friends have anxiously inquired of us if we saw a 
severe reflection made upon us in one of the prominent Baptist 
papers of the South. Happily we did not see it and will make it 
a point not to see it. In our more sensitive periods we were 
stung by personalities, but in these balmy days we hate not the 
bitter brother. We respectfully ask the brethren to be good 
to us, if they possibly can, but if this is asking the impossible 
at their hands, then we ask them to be as moderately bad as 
their hearts will allow them. We do not think a man is our 
enemy because he speaks evil of us and yet we must not mistake 
evil speaking as a christian grace." 

In the following paragraph he was the "friend" alluded to. 
He had learned that Dr. Landrum, his greatly loved friend, had 
received the Degree of LL. D.: 






484 



EDITORIAL PARAGRAPHS 









"And so W. W. Landrum has the LL. D. If there be honor, 
or power, in it Landrum deserves it. . . . It gives him a 
three-lettered perch above the D. D. populace and that may 
tickle the non-noble part of him, if he has any. But he cannot 
eat it, preach it, trade it, nor talk it. The Doctor has a friend 
who was LL. D.'d some years ago and got a Diploma which 
his admiring family guiltily framed and hung up for the third 
generation, and maybe the fourth, to gaze upon and adore. 
The nail pulled out and over went the frame and smash went 
the glory." 

"There are some preachers that would ordain an idiot rather 
than mortify a spinster aunt or an ambitious sister." 

"Whenever the Lord makes a preacher somebody else makes 
a deacon to hold down and try the patience of that brother." 

His 69th birthday was drawing near and it may have sug- 
gested the following: 

"Look-out, old folks! Old trees do not make a forest. They 
are not a vital part unless they keep green and drop their 
acorns for growing new trees. Old trees, when they die, en- 
cumber and disfigure the forest and, being in the way, ought 
to be removed. But there is nothing finer than a fresh, sound 
fruitful old tree. Young trees look up to and honor an old 
tree like that. 

"The main business of the old is to keep in touch with the 
young to love them, to seek to develop and encourage them. 
Their leaf must not fade." 



"We have to divide Baptist preachers into several classes: 

"1. Those who, for some reason, do not speak with distinct- 
ness. It is hard to hear them. 

"2. Those who, endowed with strong lungs, talk too loudly. 
They stun and shatter by blasphemous roars. It makes one's 
tympanum raw to hear them. 

"3. Those who bawl. They are vociferous and the chief 
function of their ministrations is to promote headache. 

"4. Those who explode. They go on softly for a while and 
even tend to a whisper and suddenly they raise a yell. They 
are fine for waking children and also for causing small dogs 
to bark. 



I 



THE IDEAL SECRETARY 485 

"5. Those who talk out the gospel in a natural and earnest 
way. Brother which are you?" 

He wrote an item in the paper at this time that came near 
being an unconscious portrait of himself. Southern Baptists 
were looking for a man to fill the Home Mission Secretary- 
ship — one of their most important offices and he wrote de- 
scribing the kind of man who he thought was needed for the 
position. In doing so he draws a picture of his ideal Denomina- 
tional leader. 

"The brother lives in the South. In age he is just mounting 
to his prime and grows with ripened vigor. The complexion 
of his brain is grey and there is a greyish tint in his hair. His 
mental machinery works with musical throb and .is free from 
tie-ups and jerks. Heavy suppers he avoids on principle. 
He can travel without fatigue and wonders what insomnia 
means. He does not catch cold under the breath of a Spring 
breeze, reveres snowy linen, has no tobacco smell in his clothes 
and is not weak in his spinal column. To his honor he spells 
well, has a store of rich cogent English, does not yell like a 
Comanche Indian when he speaks, is systematical, but not 
statistical, never outrages the emotions or tastes of his au- 
diences, never speaks over an hour, indulges no rhetorical 
booms, will never grow a crop of official pomposity, has no 
hereditary melancholia, falls into no nervous sprees, never 
whimpers about overwork, does not read his articles to his 
friends in private, has no neoptic strings to his bow and keeps 
his family at home while he runs his office. 

"He is constructive, full of initiative and great on detail. 
He abhors stock stories, does not plume himself on being witty, 
has no conceit that he is born to take the foolish brother down 
and would quit the earth sooner than tell a coarse anecdote 
merely to raise a rattling laugh. 

"Look out for the brother. He is disposed to invisibility 
and is applying for nothing. To find him is needed a search 
and a pair of spiritual eye glasses. We plead that he be hunted 
down and dragged out into the glare. He is our choice for the 
secretaryship of the Atlanta Board if we can only land him." 

"I cannot describe the glory of our [Academy] Commence- 
ment," he wrote me, "It was great in every point and nerve. Ah 






486 AH FONG 

Fong, my dear, good, Ah Fong, came out as usual with his rib- 
bons streaming." 

Among the visiting speakers at the Commencement were Drs. 
W. EL Whitsitt and J. N. Prestridge. It always gave him de- 
light for Ah Fong to do exceptionally well in his public per- 
formances. Ah Fong thus writes concerning one of his speeches : 

"I remember one time he went with me to an Association 
and I had to make a speech. After the meeting some one came 
up and said to him: 'Well, your Chinese boy beat the whole 
bunch.' 'Oh; go away, he replied. He is no good/ Then in a 
low voice he said: 'I dont want you to praise him before his 
face; I fear he will get a swell head, though I am glad you think 
well of him.' " 

Ah Fong also adds the following: 

"I remember one day he said to me: 'Ah Fong you are right 
smart but you are everlastingly ugly.' 

"When I pitched quoits with him and pitched a close one to 
the post, or rung it, he would say: 'Brother Hatcher does'nt 
like it'. "When he had a leaner [his quoit leaning against 
the post] and I would say: 'I'll knock it off,' he would reply: 
'I hear you make a remark, but dont know where you get your 
scripture from/ 

"I remember on several occasions he asked me whether or 
not I was happy and whether or not I had been treated well. 
Then he would say: T am too poor, Ah Fong. Why do you 
want to live with such a poor creature as I am? Tho' I am 
poor, I have tried to make you comfortable, dont you think 
I have?' 

"I answered: 'Yes, sir; more than that, you have been more 
than a father to me.' Then his face would light up with hap- 
piness and he told me the following story: 

" 'Do you know how it came about that I took you into my 
family? A great many people thought that I have been to 
China and know your father and that I sent for you to come. 
They are mistaken. Mr. Chambers brought you here without 
my knowledge. At first he talked to Dr. Ryland about you 
saying that your father is a faithful christian and a preacher 
in China and that your father wants you to be educated in 
this country. Dr. Ryland told Mr. Chambers to look me up 



AH FONG 487 

and tell me the story, saying that I was a great lover of boys. 
So Chambers came around to me with his story. I asked 
Chambers whether or not your father can support you in any 
way. Chambers answered: 'No; he has no more money left 
now/ 'So when you came to me you were without a penny. 
I asked Chambers whether or not you were willing to work — 
that is to help about the house. Chambers said: 'Yes,' 
'I told Chambers that I will try you about a month or two, 
if we could get along I'll keep you; if not I'll turn you back 
to him again, so you see I took you in with a condition, be- 
cause I never had any dealing with Chinamen before. But 
Ah Fong I declare you have been a real joy to me. I believe 
God sent you to cheer old Brother Hatcher.' 

"Dr. Hatcher loved all kinds of games from pitching horse 
shoes up. I remember on one 4th of July there was a picnic 
and a base ball game at Arvonia between Fork Union and 
Arvonia. Dr. Hatcher was at Fork Union. So we decided to 
go to Arvonia to take in the fun. We went in a two horse 
carriage. We got to Arvonia safely. During the day the 
horses somehow got unmanageable and broke the tongue of 
the carriage and Fork Union got whipped. There was no fun 
at all on our return trip. 

"I often went to Bremo to meet Dr. Hatcher when he came 
to Fork Union. I remember one very cold night we were 
driving back from Bremo. The wind was whizzing hard and 
I was very cold, my teeth were chattering. He said: Ts'nt 
this great?' Sometimes he would ask: Ts'nt this a glorious 
night?' I answered: 'No; it's too cold.' 'Oh, go away, what 
are you talking about?' he would reply." 

At this time there came from the distant plains of Texas 
a kindly word from Dr. J. B. Cranfill, editor of the Texas 
Standard, who wrote in his paper: "We have one evidence of 
conversion — we love the brethren and up, far up toward the 
head of the list is the name of Dr. W. E. Hatcher." 

His life during this Summer was brightened by the presence 
at Careby of the Grandchildren. He would dash from point 
to point in the state in his educational work, but every week, 
or two, he would swing off from the line of travel to spend a 
day or so at Careby. 



CHAPTER XXXVI 
1903—1905 

WELCOMING GRANDFATHER. COUNTRY PEOPLE. THE LOUISVILLE 

SEMINARY. TRIBUTES TO DRS. MCDONALD AND MEADOR. 

COLLECTION FOR THE SEMINARY. CONVENTION AT 

KANSAS CITY. 

The arrival of "grandfather" at Careby was always a big 
event on the hill. It looked as if he generally came on the 
night train and did not reach Careby — five miles distant from 
the depot until nearly nine o'clock. The little ones had to be 
kept up for his coming and the understanding was that all 
would be listening out for the bang of the outer gate, or the 
rumble of the carriage wheels on the bridge. That was the 
signal for a rush to the front porch by everybody, old as well 
as young, and such an uproarious welcome was given to the 
traveler! "Hello, grandfather!" "Hello grandfather!" "Hurrah 
for grandfather!" "Thought you were never coming. Glad 
to see you grandfather". Everybody on the porch was calling 
out a welcome even before they could catch sight of him in the 
dark and, in the meantime, the children were scampering down 
the lawn and screaming as they went ; if it was in the day they 
would pile up in the conveyance, if they could spy him in time. 
The next thing is the unloading, the buggy wheels are turned 
so that grandfather — and he is getting mighty big — can get 
out and then the bundles — Oh, how kind the sweet-toothed 
grandchildren are in helping to take out the bundles, one of 
them is lifting the basket out of the front and the other two 
are pulling at the packages in the back of the carriage. By 
this time the other members of the family have gotten out to 

488 



GRANDFATHER'S ARRIVAL AT CAREBY 489 

the carriage and the greeting is given and then, with nearly 
every body carrying a bundle and the children jumping in 
their glee, the procession moves up the walk and into the 
house. 

Of course the regular supper has been long over but grand- 
father will have a special supper and usually it is served to him 
in his study, with the children fluttering about him, and bom- 
barding him with all manner of questions about his trip and 
also keeping a friendly eye on the packages. It is not sur- 
prising, therefore, that the grandchildren gave a shout when a 
letter came to one of them on August 19th saying: 

"Grandfather hopes to come. . . Friday night. * You 
must sleep in the day and be up to see me when I come. Have 
the carriage sent to Bremo for me and have a good supper 
ready. I expect to have a great time with my grandchildren 
when I come. Won't we eat oranges and cackees until the sun 
goes down? 

"Nanpapa." 

If his Careby visit brought sun-light to its inmates it was 
also true that when he moved out for his Summer jaunts 
through the state he also brought joy to the places he visited. 
For example, one of the Associations which he visited was the 
Albemarle and Rev. W. W. Reynolds writes: 

"Dr. Hatcher was recognized and given the right of way. 
Dr. Hatcher, what a man he is and how we all love him! How 
he thrilled the audience." 

To his delight the Academy opened with "110 and more 
coming". The new boys, who had not selected their homes, 
would, upon their arrival report at Careby Hall which was 
called "Castle Garden". 

"I thought your father would like it that way" writes my 
mother "and the parents love to hear that their children are 
at the president's house and so we have had a number." 

While he delighted in the inrush of so many students at the 






490 THE COUNTRY PEOPLE 

opening of the Academy his heart also lingered about those 
boys who had not been able to come. He put into the Argus 
a plea for their coming: 

■ 'Exactly so, — 'We had hoped to send Walter to school this 
year but we had to give it up'. Yes, you did give it up and why? 
Because his mother was too chicken-hearted to let him go from 
home and because you, in the secrets of your heart, could not 
spare your money to educate Walter. Go ahead and deprive 
your boy of his chance and doom him to speak bad grammar and 
misspell his words and be a mudsill to the end of his days. 
Is'nt it curious that the Lord entrusts children to such narrow 
and unappreciative parents? But you might send him yet. 
He would be a little slow getting there but better late than not 
at all." 

He attended the General Association in November and my 
mother writes: "Your father's paper and address unified the 
different elements." 

In the next month he paid a visit to Halifax County about 
which he writes to me in the following bright vein: 

"It looked to me as if they had gotten the neighborhood 
together for the special purpose of storing away comforts and 
sweet surprises for me. 

"Ah it must be a fancy of mine but the best goodness of 
earth seems to me to dwell in the country. Of course it does 
not wear furs and tipped gloves, nor dress in front of French 
mirrors. Its manners are clumsy and its kindness does not 
always attend us in polished kids. But the rough old fellows 
look fine to me as they tie their horses in the woods and rub 
their stinging ears as the wind cuts them. I had all this, with 
good women coming up telling me pleasant things, with boys 
piled up on the pulpit, with my collection running over bounds 
and getting more than we asked for, with a dinner which they 
had been preparing for a long time, with old friends — that 
I did not know were living — trooping around me, with fathers 
and mothers talking to me about educating their boys and girls 
and with a lot of preachers so tender and affectionate. But, 
hold this is not business — it is almost as useless as poetry and 
an old crone like me has no sort of right to be enjoying himself." 



DEATH OF HIS HALF BROTHER 491 

Dr. Wm. R. Harper, President of Chicago University, wrote 
him as follows: 

"Rev. William E. Hatcher, 

"Richmond, Va.: 
"My Dear Sir, — I wish to express my very great apprecia- 
tion of the article published by you in the Baptist Argus of 
December 10th. From the literary point of view, from the 
homiletic point of view and from the point of view of Christian 
charity I think it is superb. 

"Yours Very Truly 

"William R. Harper." 

A telegram called him to Wytheville where his half brother 
Allan was at the point of death. "He told the servant" said 
Dr. Hatcher "that if he could hold out until he saw me he 
would be ready to go." 

"My Dear old brother Allan was buried yesterday" he 
writes me. "I hope to spend tonight with your Aunt Margaret, 
now the only survivor of the first children, herself over 80 
years of age. . . Possibly I may cheer her by my brief 
visit." 

In March he held revival meetings in Staunton where he 
writes: "I of course am in a tremor as to results and always 
feel that surely the Lord will not bless. This is my mood at 
present but mercy works many surprises." 

The news reached him that Dr. Henry McDonald, — one of 
the noblest and dearest of all his friends — had suffered a stroke 
of paralysis: 

"Ah, my friends are going" he writes me — "except the large 
part already gone. I feel a sense of my nearing end and it is 
not, except sentimentally, unpleasant, and not so unpleasant 
in that regard." 

To his grandson, William, who had been very sick, he writes 
that if he would come to Richmond he would carry him up to 
Fork Union: 






492 DEATH OP DR. MCDONALD 

"The carriage" says he "would come dashing out to Bremo 
and take us flying to Careby Hall. Then we will have a happy 
time. I will go out in the hall and call out as loud as I can: 
'Wil-1-u-m-m-m' and then I will shout: 'Virgini-a-a-a-a and 
you and Virginia will say: "All right we are coming." Then 
here will come running Lewis and Harry and we will make the 
banannas and apples nutter. Hurry up my little lovely and 
come to see me. 

"Loving Nanpapa." 

The stunning report came to him of Dr. McDonald's death: 

"The day grew dark" he wrote "when he quit the earth. The 
message that he was gone shut up our lips; we fled from the city 
and spent the night in seclusion, transfixed with the thought 
that he was walking in light before the face of his King. For 
this time we simply wave him an envious farewell. 

"We loved his faults better than we have loved the virtues 
of common men. We often contended with him, and there was 
light and comfort in the friction. He lived so high that we 
did not have to change our range of vision as he ascended to the 
Father; we only looked up higher. To friends we dare to say 
that in a calmer mood we .will give several papers of reminis- 
cences connected with our departed friend." 

He was a loyal friend, not only to individuals, but also to 
institutions. The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary 
seemed to regard him as one of its most helpful champions. 

"I remember" says Dr. P. T. Hale, "the last time that he 
came to the Seminary to deliver one of his always powerful 
and uplifting addresses to the students. When he appeared, 
a storm of applause, which became a tumultuous ovation of 
affection and regard, greeted him, — for some minutes after he 
arose to speak; they refused to allow him to proceed, until 
they bore this overwhelming testimony of their esteem and 
happiness at his presence. The venerable white head was bowed 
again and again in appreciation of their loving and enthusiastic 
greetings. They honored him as a leader, whose services had 
been so unselfishly and freely given to the Institution which 
was always so near his great heart." 

At the' meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention at 
Nashville in May, he took up a collection for the Seminary. 



THE SEMINARY COLLECTION 493 

"I never saw a finer popular collection" says a writer in the 
Baptist Courier. "It went on for an hour and the great crowd 
staid through it all. Dr. Hatcher. . . never surpassed 
his work in the Seminary Collection. The total finally reached 
$50,000." He himself said "Some collections are lifted; this 
one was handed down." With the vast audience of delegates 
before him and with several ministers in the aisles aiding him, 
he stood like a Captain on a ship directing the crew. With the 
subscriptions being called out by the ushers, he would give 
forth such a rapid-fire of bright comment about the gifts and 
the givers that he kept the people in a jubilant, and yet rev- 
erent, frame. One of the many links binding his heart to the 
Seminary was its president, Dr. E. Y. Mullins, for whom he 
had high admiration and under whose splendid leadership the 
Seminary has developed into such large and noteworthy 
proportions. 

Still another friend of his soul passed into the great beyond, — 
Dr. C. C. Meador. In the Herald concerning Dr. Meador he 
began by saying: "It was with a startling catch in my breath 
that I saw the announcement that Dr. Chastain C. Meador 
of Washington City had suddenly departed from the earth." 

After writing of Dr. Meador's youth and his ministry he 
closes with the following : 

"This is no biographical sketch. My heart would go wild 
at this hour, when my long friend is so newly gone up to glory, 
if it has to meddle with the mere dates and figures of his golden 
career. These plain words are mere snap shots of a friend, — 
taken as he arises from earth to enter the eternal city. 

"There ought not to a funeral of C. C. Meador. The thing 
becoming us best is to rejoice over a victorious life and a death 
splendid with suddenness and serenity." 

The closing sentence in this tribute to Dr. Meador contains 
a very characteristic phrase. It is the phrase "a death splendid 
with suddenness and serenity" — a picture of the death which 
he himself longed for. "I am wofully afraid I will not die 
gracefully" he said to a friend. The reigning ambition of his 



I 



494 ANXIOUS REGARDING HIS DEATH 

life was that all his actions should be performed according to 
the highest standard, and this aspiration pertained not merely 
to his writings, his preachings and his other actions but even to 
the manner of his dying. He even had high wishes regarding his 
funeral. At the beginning of his Grace Street pastorate in 
Richmond 30 years before this he lived in a house with a 
narrow and tortuous stairway, "I never see that house" said 
a lady many years afterwards living on the opposite side of the 
street "that I do not think of Dr. Hatcher saying that he hoped 
that he would not die in that house for he did not see how 
they would ever get his body down those steps." 

But if he was solicitous regarding the final departure of his 
body, immeasurably more anxious was he regarding the manner 
in which his spirit would take its final flight. His desire was 
for "a death splendid with suddenness and serenity." We 
have already spoken of this but it may well be emphasized. 
He shrank from the thought of a halt and drag at the end. He 
wished that death should catch him with his sickle in his hand 
and that he could spring from the harvest field into the pres- 
ence of his Master. "We'll work till Jesus comes" was his 
favorite hymn, and in multitudes of places in the South the 
sound of that hymn will at once call to mind Dr. Hatcher. 

He declared relentless war against decrepitude or indolence. 
He came to Baltimore during the winter of 1905 to aid Dr. 
C. L. Laws in meetings at the First Church, and from Baltimore 
he went to Hollins Institute to aid Dr. Geo. B. Taylor in 
meetings. 

"I have reason to be of all men the most grateful and con- 
tented" he writes. "The Lord multiplies to me the most choice 
and unexpected joys." "Tell William" he wrote to my wife 
"that I would give a gold dollar just to have him sit on my 
knee and let me peel an apple for him.". 

Later on he wrote to William: 

"I have been to Careby Hall and it looks beautiful and what 
made it look still prettier was that Virginia and Katherine were 



DEATH OF HIS BROTHER HARVEY 495 

at Careby and every morning they dashed down stairs and we 
ate apples to beat the drummers. I carried up a basket of 
apples and we had a gay time as sure as you are a fine boy. I 
must tell you that we were not quite happy, because all the 
time we were wishing that William was there. Virginia would 
say: 'Would'nt it be jolly if William were only here?' and after 
awhile Katherine would say: 'Grandfather dont you wish that 
William was here?' and that would almost make grandpapa 
cry just to think that his fine boy could not be there. Lewis 
would come in and I would give him a piece of apple and he 
would say that we ought to have William to help eat those 
apples. Then in would jump Harry and when I handed him 
some apple he would laugh and tell how William used to eat 
apples at Christmas. Ah Fong would blink his eyes and look 
as if he were fairly sick to see you. Never mind you must come 
next Summer." 

Another affliction befell him at this time, — the death of his 
brother Harvey. "I have had the subduing sorrow of my life" 
he wrote in reference to it. 

His brother died in the way in which he hoped his own end 
would come — suddenly. In writing in the paper about his 
brother's death his pen seemed to move with an extra bouyancy 
when it came to tell of the manner of his going. He spoke of 
Harvey taking his last look at earth and then springing with a 
bound into the eternal world, and he wrote as if he was im- 
mensely proud that his brother had departed in such fashion. 

The Academy gave him many joys, but it also furnished him 
its quota of bothers. 

"We have four snows" he writes, "piled on each other with 
a slight rumpus in the Academy on top of it. But things wag 
on very well." 

"I trust that you will work up the Saturday night frolic 
for the boys" he writes a little later to Elizabeth. "Beg or buy 
the material for the candy. Have a committee on Amusements, 
also on any other necessary thing." 

Elizabeth was his "man Friday" in his handling of the 
boys. Much of his work for them was done through her. She 



X 



496 A VISIT AT OKIE'S 

seemed to enter into fullest sympathy with him in all his 
ideals and plans about the development of the boys, and her 
helpfulness to the Academy then and in subsequent years was 
incalculable. He had distinguished men visit and address the 
students at frequent intervals. He writes Elizabeth, "I expect 
you and the Academy and Careby to give President Boat- 
wright a regal time." 

In February he paid a visit that marked the beginning of a 
delightful friendship with Dr. C. H. Dodd, pastor of the Peddie 
Memorial Church in Newark N. J. He went to preach the 
morning sermon on Founders Day and also had a happy visit 
at his daughter Orie's in Bryn Mawr College. "I found her 
rooms beautiful" he wrote; "I felt as if I was in Windsor or 
Buckingham Castle. I lunched with her and met quite a 
choice company of her friends and though I was decked in the 
proverbial dust of travel I was most warmly treated." 

He held two series of meetings, one in February at Culpeper 
and the other in March in Mobile, Ala. 

The latter part of April found him again in Alabama, — 
this time to dedicate the splendid new First Baptist Church 
building in Birmingham. 

In May he had a memorable trip. He attended first the 
Southern Baptist Convention at Kansas City. The Argus in 
describing his nomination of Mr. E. W. Stephens for the presi- 
dency said "Dr. W. E. Hatcher, that prince in Israel, Nestor of 
Southern Baptists came to the platform to put in nomination 
for President a man who was already elected in the hearts of the 
Southern Baptist host. . . and then as only Hatcher can he 
set forth the qualities of his nominee for this great office." 

His Convention visit was varied by an amusing little episode : 

"A brother took us aside during our convention trip and after 
clearing his throat, loosening up the knees of his pants, beating 
around the bush and after several stammers, said that he felt 
that we were mad with him about something. The thing 
fairly took our breath away. We mad with anybody? Not 



THE SAINT LOUIS CONVENTION 497 

with a mortal on the top of the ground. It so chanced that we 
had in our pocket at the moment an admiring and appreciative 
'Shred' which we had written up a few moments before for the 
Argus. We took it out and read it to the brother and two souls 
warmly embraced each other. If you suspect that some brother 
is angry with you tell him how you feel and you two will 
be singing blest be the tie that binds in the next ten minutes." 

From Kansas City he went to St. Louis to attend the meeting 
of the General Convention of American Baptists, composed 
of representative Baptist ministers and laymen from all parts 
of the United States. His address before the Convention was 
regarded as one of the brightest and happiest of his life. It 
was the first time since 1845 that the Baptists of the North 
and South had met in such a general convention. It had been 
arranged that Dr. Edward Juclson, son of Adoniram Judson as 
representing the North and Dr. Hatcher as representing the 
South should deliver the opening addresses which should in 
some sense set the pace for the Convention proceedings. 

He wrote me the following letter just before he started to 

the Convention auditorium to deliver his address, — Dr. C 

acting as his amanuensis: 

"My Dear E, — That I have treated you in a most unfatherly 
way is a fact beyond all denial and I am afraid that my bad 

treatment would be continued but for the fact that Dr. C 

is in my room at this time and I have decided to keep him 
quiet by asking him to write to you for me. 

"I recommend you to the newspapers for news as to the 
Kansas Convention. ... I fussed around in the Con- 
vention considerably after the old sort, but do not think that 
my absence would have been a sensible subtraction from the 
interest of the body. One man is a little thing in that body, 
particularly when Brother Hatcher is the man. 

"I am now in St. Louis — stopped here a day for the American 
Baptist Convention. This morning I am in a terror because 
of a little part I am to take. I haven't many thoughts and 
what few I have are squirming and twisting with each other 
like worms in a cup. The agony will be over by noon and I 
will mount the first train that will take me back to old Vir- 
ginia shore. 



498 HIS SAINT LOUIS ADDRESS 

"I have fully determined to close my connection with the 
College the first of July. I have never had one day of personal 
freedom from a formal engagement since I left College. I do 
want a taste of personal liberty before my days on earth shall 
end. I had rather preach a year than to ask for money one 
morning before breakfast. Folks have not yet found out that 
I can't preach and as long as they labor under that pleasant 
delusion I want to preach. This is all I can say now." 

His address charmed the Northern brethren as much as 
it did those of the South. Dr. Judson afterwards remarked 
to two Virginia ministers that Dr. Hatcher was "the greatest 
platform speaker in America." The Dispatch referred to the 
address as the "The Notable Speech of Dr. Hatcher's" and the 
Argus said that it doubted whether Dr. Hatcher was ever in 
his life as happy in an address as he was in that and then added : 
"We never saw an audience more en-rapport with a speaker. 
It was utterly impossible to report the speech," 

As he came to the front he said "I am very glad, indeed, 
that the president could think of something to say about me," 
and then he continued: 

"I feel profoundly the significance, the sublimity of this 
hour. This is a scene upon which many have desired to look 
and have died without sight. I can not but look up this 
morning and think that those men of God, who sixty years 
ago parted, are standing together at the windows of the heavenly 
city, looking upon this sight." 

He next declared that such a gathering gave notice to the 
world that the northern and the southern Baptists, while 
separated, were not divided, 

Later, in his address, he said: "Our nation has waked up 
in the last five or six years to find that our task is largely away 
from home and that she must take care of other nations and 
keep them straight. I know this remark is awful and you 
may not like it at all, — but I am a Democrat. I have thought 
lately that possibly I might get over it, or get somebody else 
over to my side. ... I would like for the Baptists of this 



HIS SAINT LOUIS ADDRESS 499 

country to catch that world spirit. We must come to- 
gether. 

He next touched upon the Civil War estrangements that 
had formerly separated the northern and southern Baptists 
and the bitter feelings that had divided them in the matter of 
the southern slaves, — or "servants" and the delightful change 
that seemed now to mark the relations between the two peoples: 

"Now, let me say again I think we ought to get together 
and try and keep in line. It is very hard for two people to 
carry on business just across the road, where they can see 
each other all the time and especially when they are carrying 
on the same kind of business and have trouble with their 
children. Abraham and Lot had a fuss. I do not undertake 
to say which was wrong, though there was a bad lot of mis- 
understandings. But I tell you what struck me in connection 
with that squabble was that Abraham laid down the platform 
for comity with a view to staying apart! It is a great deal 
harder to stay apart than to stay together, and if we are to be 
separated we ought to have some tribunal, if that word does 
not scare some strict constructionist, where these questions 
may be settled. You know the trouble that took place be- 
tween Abraham and Lot was started with their servants. 
(Laughter.) I think we will have to meet now and then, Mr. 
President, and look after our servants and let them not quarrel 
about the grazing places arid the watering places and things 
of that kind. I do not know much about comity myself, but 
any glimpses I have had of it have given me a high opinion 
of it, and I think that this movement is going to take care of 
it. And now, Mr. President, for this reason I have felt that 
we should, with cordiality, adopt these resolutions, and we 
will act together in the organization indicated in this paper. 

"My brethren, I want to say that when, twenty-five years 
ago, in the city of Atlanta, my venerable old father in the 
ministry, Dr. Jeter, proposed that the Baptists of America 
should be brought together in one organization, I, afraid to 
speak, but full of fire, felt just that way; but when John A. 
Broadus, that matchless leader, issued his moral edict it went 
the other way, and I have been a Southern Baptist Conven- 
tion man ever since. Besides, at that time I do not think it 
would have done for the Baptists of the South to have come 
to a meeting of this kind. They were not dressed well enough, 



500 PREPARATION BEFORE SPEAKING 

they were almost as poor as Lazarus and had about as many 
sores. (Laughter.) They were not in good traveling order. We 
are getting on very well down South and we can come into a 
fraternity like this without any suggestion of mendicancy. 
God is bringing back the power and glory and riches of the 
South. (Applause.) We are coming to the point where we do 
not feel that you can mistake us. With earnest spirit of 
fraternity and cordiality I second the motion for this union." 

At the close the great congregation were on their feet in a 
moment and burst forth into singing "All hail the power of 
Jesus name." 

He laid great stress upon being in proper mental condition 
when appearing before an audience and would always make his 
preparation promptly so that he would be free and unstrained 
in the hours immediately preceding the address. He felt it 
important to keep himself in bright and jovial frame, in order 
that there might be a spontaneous movement of his mental 
forces while speaking. Consequently there was no hurried and 
fidgety tugging at his address up to the moment of going to 
the platform. 

He was being constantly urged to write one or two books, 
but he treated as almost preposterous the suggestion that the 
public would welcome a volume from his pen; but we kept up 
our appeals feeling sure — judging from the reception accorded 
his newspaper writings — that a book from him would be 

eagerly read. "I do hope that X will insist on 

his writing something that will live, of the reminiscent order" 
writes his wife. "Orie was talking the other day of what 
a rare talent he had of writing at first hand — the result of 
early training, very largely". 

He surrendered later on to our bombardment, and set his 
hand to the task of book making. 

"Fork Union, Va., July, 19, 1905. 
"My Dear Eldridge and Anna, — I have no fat matter 
with which to enrich a letter. Personal items with myself 
as the Magna Pars are sorely against the grain with me, — all 



HIS GRANDCHILDREN 501 

the more as my life is so common-place. . . I am tame and 
stupid tonight and will try a few words to my charming grand- 
son. 

"As Ever, W. E. H." 

"Willu-u-ume, my Prince; Grandfather sends you thousands 
of kisses and tons of smiles. If I had you here I would jump 
you into the cars and go whirling up and down the road — 
happy because I had my lovely boy. . . I ache in my toes 
to see you. Do you want to know the reason I am proud of 
you. I tell you why — you are so good to your mother and try 
to help her. 

"Your Big Lover, Grandfather." 

He received the tidings that William had a little sister, — 
thus adding another to the list of his grandchildren, which 
fact drew forth the following letter ; 

"Griffinsburg, Va. 

"My Dear and Lovely William, — I am just the happiest 
grandfather anywhere between the mountain and the sea 
I have been very sick this week but when I heard yesterday that 
you had a sister, who is named Anna Granville and is as sweet 
as a white rose, I felt almost light enough to jump over the new 
moon. I am glad that our Heavenly father has given you 
a little sister. I know that you will love her and be good to her. 
You must pray for her every night and help your mother to 
take care of her during the day. 

"I am going to Careby tomorrow and I will tell Tom to 
have Brux and Britton as fat as butter and the new carriage 
shining like gold to go out to Bremo and bring my two grand- 
children. Won't grandmother be glad when you get there and 
won't E and Aba shout when they hear about it? 

"Grandfather." 

He drew a picture in the Argus of an old gentlemen stand- 
ing thirsty at a bucket of water, and the picture with him in it 
is so true to life that I venture the assertion that he was the old 
gentleman in question. 

"We were at a picnic the other day" he writes "and several 
people gathered around a bucket of cool water and each was 
struggling to grasp the dipper. The only exception was that 



502 HIS LOVE OF LIFE 

of an old gentleman who, with unruffled serenity, seemed ready 
to wait for any drop or two that might be left after the scramble. 
A thoughtful boy offered him the dipper, but another boy 
flared up and said that he came first. The gentleman with the 
snowy locks smiled pleasantly and said: 

" 'Boy, by all means let the boy drink first; the old ought 
always to revere the young/ 

"The thirsty lad cast a queer, inquiring look at the old man 
who had bowed to him with gracious kindness. Some long 
silent chord in the boy's nature must have been struck for 
his face flushed and his head fell and he quit the spot with 
his thirst unquenched." 

He held a meeting the first part of August in Culpeper where 
he wrote: 

"I am having agonies with something like lumbago. The 
Doctor says it is Sciatica and I only know that it is like a knife 
in my bones. But I am otherwise well and thank the Lord 
that I am living.' ' 

The one lustrous fact over which he never failed to rejoice 
was that he was "living". In his prayers, his letters and his 
conversations he was ever expressing his gratitude that he was 
alive. He yearned to live. He said in an address, in his earlier 
ministry, that one of the best signs that a man was ready to 
die was his eagerness to live, — that is, provided he wished to 
live in order to do his work. Many were the times that he 
would say "I thank the Lord that I am still living." If things 
went awry with him in his old age he would say "Yes, but I am 
still living." 

"Buy William a $2 present" he wrote me on August 5th 
three days before his birthday, "and give it to him on that 
day. Surprise him. I mailed him a long letter which he will 
get Monday." 

Evidently he had his own notions about violent athletic 
drills in young women's schools. He writes: 



FEMININE ATHLETICS 503 

"We have come in sight, — thank heaven, not striking dis- 
tance, however — of several young women of late who tore us up 
badly enough. Their way of swinging their hands was startling, 
so vindictive indeed that we thought that they had really been 
taking lessons in tragic elocution. We trembled for their 
arms lest they might get uncoupled at the shoulder and we 
wondered whether they were not mad about something, — so 
fierce they were in their swings. With the utmost diffidence we 
plead with the fair and athletic maidens not to wear such 
fighting airs in public and not to die in needless agonies by 
wrenching their elbows out of place. Fair maidens guard 
against manual violence." 

He had purchased a farm of 430 acres near Fork Union on 
which was a gold mine of uncertain value. "The gold-mine 
men" he writes his wife "are crowding me to let them open up 
the mine. . . I do not wish to get jumbled up with specu- 
lators. I would like to get money for the Academy." 



CHAPTER XXXVII 

1905—1907 

INTRODUCING NEW PASTORS. ACADEMY DETAILS. RELATION TO 

THE ACADEMY. DISAPPOINTMENTS. OLD AGE. STRENUOUS 

ACTIVITY. WEIGHTED WITH MANY BURDENS. BATTLING 

WITH SICKNESS. 

At the meeting of the General Association in November at 
Charlottesville he was asked to "introduce" to the Association 
the new pastors who had come into the state during the past 
year. He performed in kindly, witty fashion this service each 
year at the Association and it was regarded as one of the 
striking features of the session. The picture is still before me of 
Dr. Alderman, president of the University of Virginia, — on 
that morning a visitor in the Association at Charlottes- 
ville — sitting in a chair at the front and "with laughter 
holding both his sides" as the "introducing" performance 
continued. Rev. J. H. Powers says that the first thing he 
would look for, after getting to the Association each year, was 
the programme in order that he might see when Dr. Hatcher 
would introduce the new pastors. "At one of these sessions" 
says he "I laughed so much that I almost feared that I had in- 
jured something on my inside." 

One year as he was welcoming the new pastors one of the new 
men who stepped foreward was a tall, stalwart young minister 
from the North. Dr. Hatcher made this stranger feel "at home" 
by playfully introducing him as "a yankee" and, while appar- 
ently he was warning the audience against the new-comer from 
the North, he was, by his kindly manner, winning a very warm 
place for him in the hearts of the Association. From that 

504 



LETTERS FROM "GRANDFATHER" 505 

moment everybody had a glad hand for the dangerous "yankee", 
who was none other than Rev. Harry W. Mabie, the successful 
pastor of the Bluefield Baptist Church. From Fork Union 
he writes me concerning some Academy problems and adds, 
"I merely give you these as specimens of my anxieties. I am 
sure however that they will not kill me." From his grandson, 
William, he received a letter which consisted simply of in- 
numerable, illegible scratches across the page and which he 
called his "letter to Nan-papa". It brought from his grand- 
father the following reply : 

"December 11, 1905. 

"My fine big Boy, — I received your letter. It was thor- 
oughly incomprehensible and I read every word in it and it 
was as plain and easy to read as any illegible letter that I ever 
read. I think your writing is beautiful considering that your 
chirography is not better. I showed your letter to some of my 
friends and they said it was a letter that anybody could read 
provided they were able to do it. What you say about coming 
to Careby Hall makes me pat my foot like the music of a 
fiddler. Grandmother says that your sister is growing in 
beauty and flesh every day. You must give her my love and 
tell her she may grow as fast as she pleases and get to be the 
queen of all American Beauties but that after all she will have 
to admit that she can't write such a letter as you wrote me. 
I am going up to Careby tomorrow night and I will tell A. 
and E. to put things in shining shape because the only nephew 
they have on the earth will be up there in a few days and that 
I want things fixed just to suit him. When you get to 
Richmond I will hire a cab to take your mother and your 
grandmother and your sister over to the other Depot, but you 
and your father will take a little stroll through the town and 
view the beauty thereof. 

"We are not going to have things very fine at Careby this 
time because it takes too much money but we want to have 
things square and nice. I certainly want plenty of apples, 
plenty of bananas and I propose that we will have great times 
of a morning before I get up. I am sure Virginia will be there. 
I expect she will come about Saturday. Maybe Katherine will 
come too but they will get there later on anyhow and we will 
shake Careby Hall until the timbers creak. 

"Very lovingly Your 

"Grandfather" 



506 INTERESTED IN DETAILS 

As an example of the little details, as well as the large denomi- 
national undertakings that tugged at his brain, may be men- 
tioned the following letter which he received from one of the 
smaller Academy boys. This lad afterwards was graduated 
from one of the prominent universities of the land. 

"Fork Union, Va. 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — I hate to keep on bothering you, 
but my washing bill is due at the end of this week for two 
months. You were not in Fork Union last month when it 
was due, so I let it run until this month. I will have to get 
another Algebra book soon. Must I go to Mr. Bashaw for 
the money or not? I certainly do appreciate all the things 
you are doing for me and am trying to make the best of them. 

"I remain your loving little friend." 

The same boy writes again a few weeks later: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — I am so sorry I did not come over 
to get that little bundle you had for me, but I had to get up the 
wood for my room and this took me until study hour yesterday.. 

"I forgot to mention a matter which I ought to have 
spoken about when you were here. Capt. Winston is going 
to make all the cadets get khaki uniforms, or uniforms for 
Summer wear. These will cost $5.35 per suit. I wrote to 

aunt and asked her about it; she said you promised 

to pay for my uniform so I ask you about it. Capt. Winston 
is taking orders for them now and most of the boys have 
already paid him. 

"Your loving little friend." 

During these winter months he was busy in a financial 
campaign for the College, — a campaign that tried his soul. 
He was struggling to raise money to cover the losses in the 
case of those bonds in the Rockefeller campaign that had 
proved worthless. "I have exhausted the marrow in my bones 
to get the Rockefeller deficit" he writes. . "My night at 
Winfree's was as sweet as a bird's sonnet." 

He writes: 

"I never had such a passion as has burned within me for 
the last two or three weeks for absolute rest. My gift for resting 



HIS RELATION TO THE ACADEMY 507 

has never been cultivated and I am sure that after two or 
three days of idleness I will be chafing again for the battle. 
My plans repose in the bosom of chaos — a very cosy place for 
them to sleep until called into action." 

He also writes: 

"It tires me so much more to rest than to work." He writes 
me of a young preacher who was feeling good over a "raise" 
in his salary and then he adds: "I think I had a little to do 
with the action of the church and I only wish that I may be 
able to help him in other ways." He wrote a characteristic 
letter to his beloved friend, Judge W. W. Moffett. The Judge 
had recently been re-elected to the Judgeship by an over- 
whelming vote, to which Dr. Hatcher in playful fashion thus 
refers : 

"I was quite nervous about your election — being naturally 
uncertain as to the final result in cases where politics play the 
game. Had I known you would play the cormorant and 
swallow everything in sight I might have been saved several 
wakeful moments. I did not congratulate you because I hate 
to shout with a mob. When I speak 'I like to hear my own 
voice. You know how I felt about it." 

There were some who thought that the Academy was a 
source of considerable income to him. They knew not that 
while not a dollar had come to him as compensation for his 
labors for the school, yet on the other hand he had put into it 
probably several thousands of dollars, in addition to a large 
portion of his work. The following letter shows his attitude 
towards the Academy: 

"Fork Uuion, Feb. 17, 1906. 
"My Dear Eldridge, — I had a great visit to Fork Union. 
The [Academy] Trustees had a tremendous meeting, barring 

one or two luckless hitches. X struck for higher 

wages with rather a disastrous result. But that will blow off 
in no good while. We passed some mammoth resolutions about 
new buildings. They also undertook to employ me at a thous- 
and dollars to be their agent, I suppose you might call it. 
This I solemnly and defiantly refused. I told them it would 



508 LETTER FROM EX-GOV. STEPHENS 

kill me to receive a salary from the Academy — that I could not 
hire myself out to one of my children. Finally, they passed a 
resolution setting apart a thousand dollars, subject to my 
order and to be disposed of in any way that I thought proper. 
In response to that I said nothing. Their demonstration was so 
gracious and enthusiastic that it found a rather tender spot 
beneath my waistcoat. One never knows what may come, but 
I feel that if I were to receive a salary from the Academy it 
would put me at a disadvantage. I have to fight very often 
encroachments upon the treasury and I shrink from the sus- 
picion of being an encroacher. 

"Besides, it grates upon the loving joy which I have always 
found in what I do for the Academy. I humbly pray the Lord 
that the day may never come when I shall be either an employee 
or a beneficiary of the Academy." 

The meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention was draw- 
ing near and he received the following letter from Ex-governor 
Stephens of Missouri who was at that time the President both 
of the Southern Baptist Convention and of the Baptist Gen- 
eral Convention: 

"Now as president of the Southern Baptist Convention and 
also of the Baptist General Convention I command your pres- 
ence at both bodies. I simply cannot do business without 
you. I mean this. 

"You must be at both places from start to finish. The 
Southern Baptists cannot play Hamlet without him. We are 
expecting a great meeting at Chattanooga and you will be an 
essential part of it. 

"I assure you it will be a genuine pleasure to be with you 
again. I read everything you write and listen to everything 
you say, publicly and privately, when I am near you and I 
do not know that I can say this of any other man, living or 
dead, for I am the easiest man bored you ever saw. Of course 
my family would all take pleasure in visiting you in Virginia, 
but it will have to be on condition that you visit us first. 

"I again want to insist upon your being at Chattanooga, 
if not at Louisville, and if possible at both." 

He suffered a mishap in the spring that cut him deeply, 
and yet his irrepressible optimism came to his rescue. He was 



A DISAPPOINTMENT 509 

en-route to the Colgate Seminary to deliver a series of lectures 
before that institution. His manuscript was snugly packed 
away in his valise as he stopped over in Philadelphia to spend 
the Sabbath day and preach morning and night at the Mem- 
orial church. But — as he once remarked — "The Lord often 
takes our programmes out of our hands, tears them up and 
constrains us to go in ways we know not of." 

He tells in the following paragraph of the collapse of his 
plans : 

"Unaccountably we succumbed within an hour of our arrival 
to that weird, contradictory thing which travels the earth and 
does mischief under the name of the Grippe." 

But he pulled himself together and forced himself out to the 
Memorial church on the next day and attempted to preach, 
but he said: 

"We forgot the Lord's prayer, leaving out one part and 
saying another part of it twice, and read the New Testament 
when we ought to have read the Old Testament, and forced 
the choir to sing an anthem when they ought to have chanted. 
. . . Our voice cracked, wheezed and broke into grating 
dissonances." 

Monday came and with it came the Doctor who cut short 
his trip to Colgate. Concerning this visit of the physician 
he wrote: 

"He came and saw and ordered us back to Virginia by the 
next train. We set our face back to old Virginia and that came 
nearer making us feel like a human being than anything else 
that had occured. A delirious and agonizing trip of seven 
hours put us in Richmond at midnight and the next day found 
us at our hut in the brush in the fine foot-hills of the Blue 
Ridge. Four days have patched us up in spots and at this 
present writing we are cherishing the somewhat reckless hope 
of seeing Chattanooga next week." 

What a fall was that! — the Philadelphia visit turned into a 
comic tragedy, and the Colgate lectures left suspended in the 



510 A SECOND DISAPPOINTMENT 

air, and he who was to be the happy hero, suddenly bundled 
up as an invalid and shipped back to the little village of Fork 
Union. This dismal experience was soon succeeded by another 
disappointment. He was on the point of starting for the 
Southern Baptist Convention in Chattanooga when the Grippe 
laid him upon his back again. But he usually played the 
philosopher in his moments of disappointment, and his sunny 
nature did not desert him in the present instance. And yet 
it was a sore deprivation to him to be kept from that Conven- 
tion,— from its discussions and its fellowships. 

Did the Convention miss him? 

I went to the Convention and was kept busy receiving from 
the delegates the expressions of their sorrow at his absence, 
and their messages of love to him. I slipped into the hotel 
writing-room one day and dashed off the following epistle to 
him: 

"Chattanooga, Tenn., May 13, 1906. 

"Dear Grandfather, — I am very sure you do not know 
how much this Convention loves you. It is not simply admira- 
tion but love. It seems as if everybody has inquired anxiously 
about you and has sent loving messages to you. 

"It does seem a pity that you cannot be" here. You must 
surely keep yourself in good shape and be on hand next year. 
Everybody says they miss you and there seems general grief 
that you are sick and absent." 

With this letter let us couple one or two other communi- 
cations. One is a telegram that was sent to him from the 
President of the Convention, Ex-Governor Stephens, which 
reads : 

"Your name on every tongue. Sympathy in every heart. 
We miss the sunshine of your presence. The whole Conven- 
tion is praying for your recovery. Bealer joins me in this 
expression." 

Another was from the Convention itself, sent through Dr. 
T. S. Dunnaway reading: 



BELOVED BY THE CONVENTION 511 

"The Convention after special prayer for your speedy re- 
covery sends a message of sympathy and love." 

Still another telegram was from Mrs. George Schmelz 
reading : 

"Miss you so much. Do hope you are better," 

Rev. C. L. Corbitt, the new Superintendent of the Baptist 
Orphanage, writes him on May 19th: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — "I know you were greatly missed at 
the Convention; in fact I dont see how they could get along 
without you. If I were in the Lord's place I would let you live 
a hundred years longer, in truth I would make it two hundred 
upon a pinch. But then the Lord knows best and I am giving 
the matter up into his hands. I am begging him though to 
spare you many many years not only for the good of his Cause, 
but for my sake. You have been so kind and good to me. I 
not only appreciate it but I love you with all my heart." 

Many persons remarked that one of their joys in coming to 
the Convention was the privilege of meeting him there. He 
delighted at such gatherings to open his heart to his brethren 
and his ears to the stories of their burdens, their struggles and 
their triumphs. "How many care-worn pastors," he once wrote, 
"bring their secret wounds with them to our great assemblies. 
. . . What a field it opens to the burden bearer. We can do 
no better thing than to open ear and soul to their cries of the 
heart and to stay long enough to take their burdens off and 
cast them on the Lord." Dr. Buckner of Texas said: 

"He used to honor me and touch my heart, by affectionately 
insisting that I should sit by him on the platform at the gather- 
ings of our great Southern Baptist Convention." 

His strength soon returned and he sped away from Fork 
Union as if to make amends for his days of inactivity. He 
appeared to forget that his 72nd birthday was at hand as 
he took the train for a long journey to South Carolina 



512 PRESSING EARNESTLY FORWARD 

for a series of revival meetings, after which he returned 
to Fork Union and thence hastened to Ohio where, at 
the Denizon University at Granville, he was scheduled 
to speak at the Commencement exercisies. His rapid 
trips made his wife uneasy. She writes, "keep up with him 
and beg him to take better care of his voice. He is using it 
too much but I dont believe we can check him much." 

She often during these later years asked me to join with her in 
efforts to check him in his overwork. It was a natural request 
but our efforts were as straws before a strong current. His 
soul clamored for work. He would listen to the exhortations 
of his family and friends about his overwork, would twit the 
speaker with playful jests and then take the next train for a 
dedication, a revival campaign, or a Board meeting. In the 
week after writing the above letter my mother writes me again : 

"Dr. Hatcher performed numerous feats this week for one 
of his age. Just think of it — to Ohio Saturday, preaching 
sermon Sunday, returning to Richmond Tuesday, Alumni 
banquet Wednesday, Trustee meeting and Commencement at 
night, leaving at IIP. M. train for Salem where he installed 
Charles Corbitt as Supt. of the Orphanage on Thursday and 
here today — somewhere distant next Sunday. . . Your 
father has just come in. He seems well and in good spirits." 

There was one thing that he insisted upon almost as inexora- 
bly as he did upon his keeping at work and that was having 
his grandchildren at Careby in the Summer. For example he 
writes to William E. Jr. on July 3rd: 

"I fairly leaped for joy when I got your letter written by 
Aba and signed with your own hand. I think it is a big thing 
to have a boy who can write his own name. It almost made 
tears come in my eyes when I read that you wanted me to come 
after you and bring you to Careby. You ought to be here. 
The trees are beautiful, — the grass in the yard is soft and green — 
the plums are ripe in the orchard — the bushes are laden with 
blackberries — the whortleberries are coming on — June apples 
are ripe and are going fast — Mammy's cows have milk for you 



OLD AGE 513 

and Onie will make batter-cakes for you one morning and 
waffles the next. Virginia and Katherine have not come and 
Grandmother has no one to speak to but Ah Fong. 

"Tell your mother that Careby Hall is waiting for you and 
that Brux and Britton will toss their heads and rattle their 
harness with joy when they go to Bremo to meet you. 

"Ah Fong is at Careby Hall and he would shout for joy if 
you would come and I hope by all means you will make him 
shout." 

Old age had long been knocking at his door. For several 
years his hearing had paid the penalty of its long usage and 
now his eye-sight was growing dim. My wife writes me from 
Careby : 

"He said the other night that he was afraid that he would 
not be able to do much more writing on account of his eyes. 
I know how anxious you have been for him to do more writing. " 

Concerning old age he wrote : 

"It is said that at forty-eight Thackery was gray, bowed 
and gloomy, fretfully brooding over the past. We must admit 
that it is not easy, except by tricks that are grotesquely vain, 
to keep the silver threads out of our hair, or even to keep the 
hair, with the silver threads included, on our heads. Nor is it 
always possible to preserve the erectness and elasticity of our 
forms, but it is folly, it is a sin in christians to grow dismal 
and downhearted as age comes on. A cheerful engrossment 
in our appointed work is an effectual safeguard against mel- 
ancholy. . . If we would clothe our souls with perennial 
youth we must set our faces towards the future and rejoice 
in the living God." 

He visited in September the Middle District Association in 
Maryland, where he preached a sermon on the Significance of 
Baptism. He dwelt the longest on the first three words of the 
text "Know ye not", — as if Paul would say in that passage 
(Romans VI, 4) to the christians who had long since been 
baptized: "What, know you not? Can it be that you were 
baptized and yet you do not know its rich meaning? Do you 
not know that "as many of you as were baptized etc?" 



514 SORE TRIALS 

One of the ways by which he kept his heart young was by 
keeping it open to all the interests of Christ's kingdom. For 
example he remembered at this time that the great Seminary 
at Louisville was at the beginning of a new session and that 
through its doors now were crowding its students from all parts 
of the South and so in his editorial column in the Baptist 
World he writes as follows: 

"We uncover our heads and make our bow to the scores and 
and scores of young princes in Israel just entering our great 
Seminary in Louisville. Hello, boys: Southern Baptists hail 
you and warmly approve your coming. Your opportunity is a 
miracle wrought for you by the great-hearted. Remember 
that and seize the prize set before you. Do not allow homes — 
sickness, nor messages found in square envelopes which reach 
you about twice a week, to be mistaken for emergency calls 
to quit school and go to preaching. Unless gumption and grit 
are short of measure in your case take no short cuts but stay 
in the middle of the road. . . May the Lord of our fathers 
anoint the sons of the prophets." 

Some burdens at this time were pressing him very severely, 
and he was subjected to sore and exceedingly painful trials. His 
wife overheard him say to himself one day in an adjoining 
room, "Ah, this is a hard world." 

At the General Association in Richmond in November his 
soul seemed to feast on its fellowships. His wife, in writing 
about the Association, said : 

"Last night when there was about to come a hopeless tangle 
he rose and by his word brought relief to the situation." 

He wrote me from Franklin, Va., of some engagements that 
he had for the next few weeks and added: "And then blessed 
idleness until after Christmas and still longer. I mean to put 
my type- writer in perfect shape and my mornings are to be 
given to those articles and reminiscences which seem to give 
you so much unnecessary trouble." 

Christmas was approaching and he yearned for a family 
reunion at Careby. He wrote me: "Servants may forsake us, 



MEETINGS AT TROUTVILLE 515 

but our companionship is better than stalled oxen or turkeys 

stuffed with oysters. Let us get together if we can." He said 

that his meeting at Franklin was "transcendently great." 

To Dr. Andrew Broadus Jr., he writes on November 27th: 

"It was just like you to write me that delightful letter. 

"Life abounds in complexities, and hard strains come to all 
and often in unexpected ways. This is a part of God's dis- 
cipline. To be able to receive the cuts and slings of injustice 
and yet to keep the heart open and free from bitterness is no 
easy matter. And yet we must do this for if we fail in it we 
fail in character. ... I love you with an ever ripening 
friendship." 

He interjects a surprising parenthesis into his revival meet- 
ings at Trout ville, viz., a trip to Richmond, spending two nights 
on the cars but missing only one day from the meetings. 

"Think of it" he writes his wife. "Here I am in Richmond. 
Meeting of Trustees of Richmond College came this morning 
and I am going back tonight. Had a fine day here. Mr. Camp 
dined some of us at the Jefferson this afternoon in great pomp." 

Regarding the night trips from Troutville, the pastor, Dr. 
George B. Taylor, thus writes: 

"Notices came to each of us of an important called meeting 
of the Board of Trustees of Richmond College. I told Dr. 
Hatcher that he must go. . . He insisted on my going. So 
we arranged for a forced march. We left Troutville one night 
after the night service, went by way of Basic and the C. and 
0. R. R. to Richmond, this being an all night journey, without 
a "sleeper". At Basic, between trains, he dictated to me one 
of his articles to the Baptist World. . . We reached Rich- 
mond in the morning, spent the day there and took the N. and 
W. in the evening. The next morning we drove from Roanoke 
to Troutville, eleven miles and were then in time for the morn- 
ing service. I tell of this to show how vigorous, enthusiastic, re- 
sourceful he was. 

"And, in passing, I would say that he was a charming fellow 
traveler. This last remark reminds me of some hours with him 
after one of the Orphanage Board meetings at Salem. He asked 



516 THE CHRISTMAS REUNION 

me to be his guest at supper in Roanoke at the N. and W. 
Restaurant. I accepted. We had a good supper and a season 
of good fellowship." 

It would seem that his seventy two birthdays would have 
read the riot act to him against such strenuous activities as that 
of the Troutville-Richmond trip, but he knew that he was 
approaching the border line and he determined to keep up the 
high pressure. He was never so well and never so jubilant 
as when he was out upon the highways and hastening on with 
the King's business. 

Regarding the Christmas reunion at Careby and the coming 
of the grandchildren he writes: 

"Tell William that I am fairly shouting at the thought of 
our fruit feasts in the morning. We will wake the sleeping 
natives with the noise with which we will fill the house. 

"I think we must have a new set of calls and the children 
will have to rehearse them so we can make the house roll and 
tumble with the thunder of our shouts. As for fruit we must 
have it stored away and not let any hands touch it except by 
our consent. 

"I saw Virginia and Katherine a week ago. Their mother 
seemed a little doubtful about coming but I put my foot down 
and said "they had to" and I am sure it will be all right." 

Attached to this letter was a sheet of paper on which he had 
written the following: 

"Master William E. Hatcher Jr. and Miss Anna G. Hatcher 
are most lovingly invited to spend the Christmas Holidays with 
Grandfather and Grandmother at Careby Hall and to eat 
fruit in bed every morning before breakfast with the quartette 
of grandchildren. They must bring their largest voices with 
them so that they can shake Careby with their thundering 
shouts and wake up the drowsy members of the tribe." 

It would seem — at first blush — as if "somebody had blunder- 
ed" that this old man, now moving on towards his 73rd birth- 
day, should in addition to countless other tasks be carrying 
upon his shoulders a large and growing Military Academy, 



HIS WORK FOR THE ACADEMY 517 

with practically the entire load resting upon him. It was not 
merely that he exercised general oversight over the institution 
but the management of the school, with even the details 
on the business side, was upon his mind and under his direction. 
Every burden put its pinch in his heart. He was expected to 
be the chief magnet to draw the pupils; if a note was to be made 
in bank, or if a $3,000 loan was needed in order to erect an 
Armory for the school the verdict was: "Let Dr. Hatcher do 
it." If teachers were to be employed, a new Catalogue 
prepared, or Commencement exercises arranged for, or 
speakers secured for the school opening, or boys trained 
for a special entertainment, or a new Commandant se- 
cured from the Government, or special rates decided upon 
for certain boys; or, — and yet how vain to attempt a list of 
the Academy tasks that were week by week tugging at his 
brain and putting their responsibilities upon his heart. 

Let it not be concluded that the other Trustees were unsym- 
pathetic or disloyal. He found rich delight in the devotion 
of the local trustees to the school. They were in nearly every 
case plain, unlettered farmers, with no experience nor training 
that fitted them for conducting a great Academy. But they 
were sympathetic and stood loyally by their President and 
in many ways reinforced his labors in behalf of the institution. 
But with all this it was he who carried the load and the innumer- 
able perplexities of management and upbuilding put many a 
thorn in his pillow. 

In his visits to us in Baltimore we could read between the 
lines and see the Academy worries that were straining and 
ofttimes bewildering him. The school was the child of his heart, 
"and" said he "like our children generally they always give us 
our greatest joys and our greatest cares." 

"The care of the school is very fearful upon me" he writes 
me on Dec. 10th. "It has points of peril that I have not 
had to deal with before. It uses much of my time and in 
that way lessens my income seriously. But I cannot let go. 
I was not built that way. I hope to come to Baltimore on 



518 THE ACADEMY 

Jan. 2nd [for a dedication]. I have two meetings in Indiana 
and one in South Carolina." 

He took pride in the thought that the Academy was a giver 
rather than a recipient. It had been his duty often to canvass 
Virginia for funds for other Baptist Schools and he knew that 
the denomination was heavily burdened. It gave him comfort 
to think that he had been able to pull his Academy along 
without troubling the denomination. Yea he rejoiced that 
he had done far more, he had made it a fountain of blessing 
in the aid and training that it had given to many a poor am- 
bitious boy and in the sending out of well-equipped young men 
into the denomination to fill its pulpits, its professor's 
chairs and other positions of influence. It was this fact that 
cheered him and nerved him to his sacrifices and activities. 

Let it be remembered that in connection with his labors 
for the Academy he was busy with manifold activities of 
other kinds, — such as conducting revival meetings in which he 
preached twice and sometimes three times a day, writing his 
weekly S. S. Lessons for the Baptist Teacher, furnishing 
editorial matter to different papers, participating in the meet- 
ings and work of various Boards and committees of a denomi- 
national character, dedicating churches, preparing special 
addresses, etc., etc. 

We are next called upon to view him while grappling defiantly 
with sickness in his efforts to keep busy. 

"Your father has been constantly at the typewriter" writes 
my mother "but has been sick for two days — working on his 
S. S. Lessons. He seems to enjoy writing. He got home on 
Monday worse for wear with a cold like Grippe. That night 
he was slightly delirious — as he always is, when he has a fever." 

He went to Salem and there on Monday the battle went 
against him and his sickness laid him low. "Taken mournfully 
sick Monday" he writes. "Endured the pangs and woes of the 
meeting [Orphanage Trustees] and dragged my aching frame 
to Tom Shipman's in Roanoke and fell into as loving embraces 



BATTLING WITH SICKNESS 519 

as were ever bestowed upon Angels when they were traveling 
in disguise. My sickness is Grippe — hard and harsh — filled 
with pricking pain and racking me as if I had met a martyr's 
doom. . . I shall doctor myself for my Baltimore trip and 
by the mercy of the Lord I hope to see you within a week." 
Rev. Thomas Shipman, in whose home he was so lovingly 
entertained, thus writes to Mrs. Hatcher: 

"Do you know that I am fully persuaded that he will go on 
to Baltimore for next Sunday and dedicate that church. You 
just can't hold him down. His life is worth too much to the 
people for him to overtax and expose himself at his age. He 
is our great leader and we can't spare him just now. Can't 
you get him to write, write more?" 

"I doubt whether he ought to preach and speak so much" 
writes his wife. "Evidently his larynx is the delicate organ. 
I wish there was some way to get him to take better care of 
himself." 

He went to Baltimore, stayed in our home and preached the 
dedicatory sermon at the new Second Baptist Church, after 
which he hurried — still sick — back to Richmond, from which 
point he wrote his wife to prepare for his coming on the late 
train that evening to Bremo: 

"Coming up this evening. It is a risk, but put curtains on 
the buggy and plenty wraps. Tell Horace to use robe on horse 
at depot. Better bring lamp." 

He went and his wife wrote that he arrived that night 
"when the weather was below zero" — after a drive of five miles 
from the depot. Dr. Mullins had invited him to speak at the 
Seminary in Louisville on Founder's Day and although he 
was sick yet he made the trip. 

"The long jump to Louisville brings me pause" he writes 
"for I do not seem to be on the top crest of health. But travel 
seems the only saving exercise for me so far as health is concerned. 
I quit my bed to go from Roanoke to Lynchburg — quit Lynch- 



\ 



520 LECTURE IN LOUISVILLE 

burg for Baltimore and it agreed with me — quit Baltimore, in 
the face of stentorian protest, to go to Richmond and fattened 
on it — quit Richmond for Fork Union and here I am getting 
my going-temper up to the fighting point. I love Louisville 
but if it was to Baltimore I was starting I would feel new thrills. 
But let me not be ungrateful. Mrs. Marvin claims me as her 
guest and that is a clean sweep to royal honors. 

"I am in a sub-cellar of despond about my speech but I 
trust the Lord will meet me at the crisis and pull me through. 
Cook sick at Careby and things not at the apple pie counter." 

He went to Louisville and on the 19th he writes me: 

"The time of my life. This has been the best. 

"My poor skinny lecture drew a crowd and seemed to hit 
the bull's optic. Sunday I preached twice — at East Church 
in the morning and at Broadway at night. Had ripping crowds 
and folks went quite foolish." 



CHAPTER XXXVIII 

1907 

COMMENCES WRITING HIS NEW BOOK. BIOGRAPHY. COLGATE LEC- 
TURES. DELINEATING CHARACTER. WORKING AT HIGH 
PRESSURE. ADDRESS AT INDIANAPOLIS ON "THE 
MAKING OF THE AMERICAN GENTLEMAN." 

Friends communicated with Mr. Revell, the New York 
publisher, about the importance of enlisting Dr. Hatcher in the 
writing of one or more books. Writing of his visit to Louisville 
he says: 

"Mullins is quite up on my books and urges me to write fast 
and often. I start home this evening." 

He received a letter from Mr. Revell that quickened his 
pace in the matter of book writing. We had talked of two 
books, — one a book of Reminiscences and the other a book on 
John Jasper, the colored preacher of the "Sun Do Move" 
fame. Upon his return from Louisville he writes me further 
about his new book, in the production of which he is now be- 
coming much interested : 

"I have other stories of the sort that you sent to Mr. Revell. 
I can run them off quite fast and will do my best. But my 
lecture engagements, my editorial work and several trips on 
work intent crowd me up considerably. 

"Dr. Mullins. . . was quite fierce in his enthusiasm 
about the publication as I knew he would be. He is surely 
the King of the Louisville Dominions, 

He writes me on February 25th that he has decided to 
publish the book on "John Jasper" first and let the other 
publication come out later and then adds: 

521 



522 THE JASPER BOOK 

"I wish you would see also how many humorous stories — 
with a religious side to them — you would find acceptable with 
the publisher. The book ought to be departmental in a small 
sense. I could pile in things on the laughing side of my min- 
istry and many of them have a serious undertone. Not one is 
touched with irreverence." 

"Just from Winfree's" he writes his wife on March 6th; 
"Wrote Jasper's sermon on 'The Sun Do Move' while there. 
Am busy with stenographer on my New York lectures. I go 
to South Carolina tomorrow. Tell Horace to use this weather 
repairing fences at farm." 

Regarding the plan of the Jasper book he writes; "I must 
eschew the old run of biographic history and give it a dash of 
the genuine Jasper." In other words, his new book is to be, — 
not a history but a picture of Jasper. Is there not much 
literary philosophy couched in those words "a dash of the 
genuine Jasper." It was as if he would say that the mere 
historical details of Jasper's life might not show "the genuine 
Jasper." Such historical details could easily conceal or distort 
the real man. It was his purpose that the Jasper in his book 
should be the genuine article and his expression "a dash" 
indicates that he has in mind a sketch rather than a full, life- 
sized oil painting. His remark takes a fling at what he calls 
"the old run of biographic history" and speaks of it as some- 
thing that he would "eschew". I have looked upon the rows 
of biographies so many of which stand in undisturbed quiet upon 
the shelves of our public libraries. I have wondered if the 
present book would join the dust-covered company. This 
timid writer has already taken the reader into his confidence by 
telling him that he too is seeking to "eschew the old run of 
biographic history" and to present a picture of the genuine 
William E. Hatcher and if the curiosity of any reader may not 
be satisfied in these pages as to the particular places visited 
by Dr. Hatcher, or the dates on which his performances occured, 
it is hoped that he will feel more than compensated in dis- 
covering the individual behind the deeds; for it is not the visible 



SOUTH CAROLINA 523 

movements of the man, but rather the personality hidden under 
the daily activities, that enlists our interest. 

His letter to me, which is referred to above, was as follows : 

"I hope you have copies of all the articles written thus far. 
. . . I am going out today and look for three or four officers 
of Jasper's church and gather some things if possible that 
will go further in giving us all the material we want. 

"I am not sure that I desire to have the book called 'The 
Sun Do Move.' It would really belie the character of the 
book. . . It [the sermon on "The Sun do move"] was really 
one of the most eloquent and powerful sermons that he ever 
preached. . . Tomorrow I go to Edgefield, S. C. 

"P. S. — I called on one of the dignitaries of Brother Jasper's 
church this afternoon and struck the track of what I hope 
will prove much valuable information. . . I must eschew 
the old run of biographic history and give it a dash of the 
genuine Jasper." 

South Carolina seemed to attract him and during the re- 
mainder of his life it became a frequent tramping ground for 
him in his revival meetings. From Edgefield, in that state, 
he writes on March 16th, "Life is at high tide in this historic 
county seat at this moment. Our meeting is simply glorious. 
It fills me with grateful wonder." 

"I wish" writes his wife "he could write shorter letters to 
folks. But they are often personal letters from folks who want 
him to help them and he has a mind always to do a good part 
by them; that is right I suppose." 

Dr. A. J. Fristoe was holding meetings at the Academy and 
as he caught sight of Dr. Hatcher at Careby Hall in the midst 
of his labors he thus writes: 

"Dr. Hatcher is one of the busiest men I have ever seen. 
Knowing he was no longer identified with a responsible pas- 
torate I supposed that his duties would not be so numerous 
but I found quite the contrary to be true. His correspondence 
is large, lectures for universities, colleges and Seminaries are 
being prepared, newspapers are clamoring for the products 



524 LECTURES AT COLGATE 

of his pen and at no distant date several books will be ready 
for the press. And, beside all this, Richmond College, Fork 
Union Academy, the Orphanage, the Education Commission 
and other great interests of Virginia Baptists require his close 
identification and actually before my meeting was half over 
he was wired to attend a funeral in Richmond and proceed 
thence to South Carolina to hold a meeting. May God spare 
him to us many years." 

In the previous year he had been prevented by sickness from 
delivering three lectures at Colgate Seminary and he had agreed 
to deliver them in April of the present year. About April 1st 
he arrived in Hamilton, New York, to perform, his promised 
task, — that of speaking out of a ministry of fifty years to a body 
of young preachers. He delivered three lectures. The first one 
was on "The Imperishable Things." In his introduction to this 
lecture he recognized the upheaval in the world of Biblical 
scholarship and he said that many timid souls feared that this 
scientific inquiry threatened disaster to the Bible. He pleaded 
for an openness to the truth. "Let us be willing to know the 
truth and let us take time to find it out. Let us not be uneasy 
lest the foundations of the righteous be destroyed." 

He then singled out four facts regarding the christian min- 
istry, which amid earths' changes and uncertainties stood out as 
imperishable. These were: I. The ministry itself. II. The 
ministry-producing force. III. The demand for the ministry. 
Under this head the speaker said: "No man can read the signs 
of the time, as they are written on passing events, without 
feeling that there is a new spirituality — shadowy, indistinct 
and yet undeniable — that is throbbing in the air of this world. 
Materialism is balked and mortified by its failures. It heard 
the cry of the soul asking to be fed; it had nothing but the 
stone and the scorpion to give in reply. IV. The order for the 
universal enforcement of the gospel; — which he said was "the 
most audacious and startling word that human lips ever uttered, 
— the Great Commission." 

His second lecture was — but perhaps some reader of a non- 
theological turn of mind may think it a waste of space to be 



THE MAN WHO ARRIVES 525 

retailing here the thoughts that were presented to a Seminary 
audience. And yet the reader might permit us to remind him that 
this book is a sort of open Commons where one may roam at 
pleasure and if he finds himself persecuted in one part he may 
flee unto another, and who knows but that some readers may, 
in lighting upon these cullings from Dr. Hatcher's lectures, 
rejoice as if he had found some fine gold; and beside it is a 
principle in literary culture that the mind should not follow 
too slavishly the narrow path of its own preferences, but should 
sometimes at least widen the range of its studies and browse 
in pastures new. If the reader thinks that these comments and 
side remarks might be dispensed with let him understand that 
they are interjected in mercy to him, to serve as resting places 
along his way as he journeys through these pages, and possibly, 
also, as contrasts to the bulk of the material with which this 
book is filled. Fielding says in his history of Tom Jones, 
" Judicious writers have always practised this art of contrast 

with great success The Jeweler knows that the 

finest brilliant requires a foil and the painter, by the contrast 
of his figures, often acquires great applause." If the reader 
therefore should weary of such collateral disquisitions, as being 
dulness embodied, let him use them to set off to even greater 
advantage the gleanings and incidents from Dr. Hatcher's 
life which constitute the other portions. A humorous writer 
of a century or more ago "told the public that whenever he was 
dull they might be assured there was design in it," and with 
this ancient writer as my authority, and trusting that the reader 
will after these reminders withdraw his objections, I will take up 
the second Lecture which bore the unique title of "The man 
who arrives" and it must be understood at the outset that this 
subject is simply an old acquaintance decked up in new and 
more becoming attire and known on the street, or in the market 
place, as "the man who gets there" and as he was addressing 
young preachers he had in mind, of course, "the preacher who 
arrives." He then proceeds to mention four things that the 
effective rruiiister must have. 



526 THE THIRD LECTURE 

"I. The power of adaptation/ ' — and this he defines as "the 
power to grapple surprises.' ' 

"II. The power of discovering relationships." This quality 
with him seemed to stand almost first in his list of ministerial 
qualifications. He thought that great men differed from small 
men largely in their ability to see things in their relation to other 
things. He always seemed afraid of the man who could see 
only one thing at a time. 

"A truth seen outside of its family is a stranger" said he. 
He spoke of the evils and perils of half truths. "John Calvin" 
said he "had his study in Geneva and from his window could 
behold the eternal glaciers of the Alps. Had he been born on 
the other side of the mountains and beheld the woodland, the 
lake and the sunlight of Italy he would have hardly believed there 
could be a glacier." 

"3. The capacity for the gradation of duties." 

"4. Mastery over men. The minister must be the princeliest 
man in his church — well rounded, with his infirmities under 
cover, with no apologetic note, without whine or sob, bright, 
strong, commanding — a leader of the people." 

The third lecture had for its subject, "The fourfold relation 
of the Minister." In this lecture he dealt with the minister 
as he is in the act of giving his message to his audience, and the 
central, dominating thought of the lecture was that the per- 
sonality of the preacher is a vital element in the sermon. 

"The gospel" says he "furnishes the divine element of the 
sermon and the preacher contributes the human element and 
whenever these two come together into sweet accord and the 
human and the divine are blended in due proportion then the 
sermon will inevitably carry immeasurable power." 

The speaker then unfolded the four things which should 
mark the minister "who appears before the public with a 
message." 

"1. He must be the master of his own personality." 

"It was scathingly said of one preacher that he would have 



THE THIRD LECTURE 527 

been great but for the fact that he was everlastingly in his 
own way. . . Oh, it is a matchless sight — a minister who 
moves with unstudied grace, carried unconscious dignity and 
does and says the fitting thing." 

"2. He must be in fellowship with his audience. Not that he 
must dream and scheme to please, . . He who trims his 
sails to catch the passing breeze will be lost on a calm sea. . . 
Nor must a man trifle with his audience. . . The true 
minister reverences his audience. They are to him creatures 
of God, bearing about them marks of a majestic origin and 
wearing the signs of a noble destiny. . . If he touches 
the evil in them it is with a surgeon's blade but always with a 
gentle hand." 

"3. There must be kinship between the preacher and his 
sermon. He must be the father of the sermon; not the step- 
father, not its adopted father. It must be the child of his 
brain, his culture and his travail. . It takes a spiritual man 
to make a sermon, and, even more, a spiritual man to preach 
it well. It is a serious business to make sermons and only fools 
stop you on the street, whisk out their note books and spin off 
their sickly little analyses as if they had gotten their new mes- 
sages from the throne." 

'The sermon without the man is at best just one half of 
a sermon. Jesus himself charged his teaching with the electric 
force of his own personality." 

"4. There must be a good understanding between the minister 
and his master. . . We cannot preach a living gospel unless 
we are in living fellowship with God." 

"Oh, why do not men preach? What is the matter with 
us? ... I take up the lament of Jeter, one of the greater 
men of the South, — 'Oh, that I could preach! I cannot preach. 
I never have preached. My heart fails me lest I quit the earth 
without ever preaching a worthy sermon.' " 

"Some make sermons, but cannot preach them; some can 
preach, but cannot forge the thunder-bolts of truth. Lord 
send us the sermon-maker, the man with a message who can 
wake the dead by delivering it." 

He gave them the cream of his thinking and of his exper- 
ience as a preacher and it is not surprising that there was an 
urgent demand for the publication in permanent form of the 
lectures. He yielded to the request of the University by 



528 DR. ARTHUR JONES 

writing out for publication his second lecture, "The man who 
arrives." 

It was rare that he remained in a community of choice men 
for many days that his soul did not single out some congenial 
spirit. At Colgate he and Dr. Arthur Jones, professor of 
Homiletics, formed a friendship that continued to the end. 
Dr. Hatcher had in him a trait that often made him find pleasure 
in taking issue with another. Frequently in dealing with men, in- 
stead of seeking to keep his dealings on a placidly aimable and 
harmonious level he would assume the aggressive. He liked 
a contest, ofttimes preferring a conversational tussle and he 
liked a man who did not always agree with him. For example, 
he writes concerning his experiences with Dr. Jones of Colgate : 

"My home was with that matchless Homiletical Wrangler, 
Dr. Arthur Jones. What happiness it was? Didn't we fling 
care and sorrow to the wind and have storms of dispute, 
enjoyment and love? I would think it cheap to cross the ocean 
to have it over again. Every hour brought its pleasure and to 
the Doctor and his most hospitable wife I am greatly indebted." 

His programme for the next few weeks was varied. From 
Colgate he took a long dash to Dillon, S. C. where he wrote 
that "the meeting rose to celestial heights", He hurried back 
to Fork Union and after writing that at Dillon every store and 
office had closed for the services he ended his letter by saying. 
"Things look interesting and happy here but I grunt at the 
sight of my letter pile." This pile had been accumulating during 
his Colgate and his Dillon visits, and then he adds, "I go to 
Georgia next Thursday". And thus it went week by week. 
From one state to another, and in widely different forms of 
ministerial activity, he kept driving ahead with his labors, 
working while it was day. 

He was such a lover of men that he was frequently called 
upon to write or speak tributes in honor of prominent men who 
had recently died. The family of a departed leader would 
often turn to him as the one who could speak the fitting word, 



PORTRAYAL OF CHARACTER 529 

We have already called attention to his power of analysis 
in delineating character. It was striking how honest he could 
be in his portraiture of men without being in any way offensive. 
He was asked to deliver the funeral address of one of the most 
distinguished Baptist laymen that Virginia ever produced. 
The occasion was a memorable one and before the service he 
went to a prominent son in the family and said to him, "You 
have asked me to deliver this address. I want you to under- 
stand that I shall seek to give a full and true portrait of your 
father and shall not seek to cover up any of his faults." 

"You have an open track, Doctor" he replied. 

The address made a profound impression. His happy art 
in portraying character grew out of his manner of dealing with 
men. The conventionalities and customs of people about him 
were to him surface traits which often concealed or obscured 
the person underneath instead of revealing him. He carried 
on his negotiations with the real man within. 

Even in the case of little children their pretty ways and cute 
mannerisms did not particularly impress him. He wanted to 
see the real boy, or girl, underneath these little nicities of 
manner. He could never make any headway in becoming 
interested in babies. As for caressing the little things and of 
frolicking with them as if they were playthings he could not 
and would not. He would say in the case of his grandchildren 
"I'm waiting for them to get companionable." Ofttimes when 
he was watching some little ones who were playing near him 
and when it was thought he was noticing their antics, their 
movements or their looks he would say, "That boy is a philo- 
sopher; see what he did" or he would point to another child 
saying, "That's perseverance." In other words, beneath the 
chatter and rompings of the children, he saw qualities and 
characteristics and it was for these that he was always looking, 
and until the children became old enough to show some indi- 
viduality and traits he could not become particularly interested 
in them, — though even in the case of the infants he would 



530 PORTRAYAL OF CHARACTER 

often remark on the "defiance" or "rebellion" or "disgust" 
that their cries indicated. 

It seemed that he loved to speak at the funerals of men of 
mark not only because of his desire to honor their memory 
but also because the delineation of character was an act that he 
keenly enjoyed. His mind seemed to carry so clearly the out- 
lines and lineaments of individuals that when their personality 
was to be unveiled at their funerals he found pleasure in 
the unveiling. 

Upon learning one day at Careby of the sudden death of a 
gentleman who had been greatly estranged from him he said, 
"I would like to speak at his funeral. I could do it better than 
anybody else." This remark which was made to his daughter 
in his office sounded strange, as having the appearance of 
boasting, but he had seen the man under such different lights 
during his life and understood him so well, — knew his strong, 
as well as his weak, qualities — that he hated to see such an 
individual quit the earth with out a full and fair portrait of 
him being held before his friends and neighbors. It was an 
unpremeditated outburst and showed his love for delineating 
character. His address at the memorial service of his cherished 
friend, Dr. A. E. Owen, began with the words: 

"When Dr. Garrett, the chieftain of this generous hour, 
asked me to be present and speak today I confess that my heart 
bounded with pleasure, much chastened and yet so intense, 
that I could hardly contain myself." 

After stating that he knew too well that no speech of his 
could equal the occasion he proceeded to dissect the character 
of Dr. Owen and to lay its different parts before the audience: 

"He was powerfully, dangerously ambitious and but for 
the counteracting principle of fairness and justice he would 
have gone to ruin. 

"His conversion was the centralizing and all changing event 
in his life. 

"He wore his faults on his sleeve. Mark the worst that he 



TRIBUTES TO FRIENDS 531 

was as you saw him day by day and I can safely say there 
was nothing worse behind. 

"His complacent self respect, sometimes a theme for criti- 
cism, was one justified by a rare and lofty appreciation of 
other people. 

"I dare say that the happiest moment of Dr. Owen's life 
was when he received the call from God to preach the gospel. 
He fairly leaped with exultant joy that such an honor had come 
to him. 

"His piety was too deep to flaunt itself, but how it cried 
and pleaded and wept in his sermons. I loved Owen for many 
things and most of all for his utter lack of mock modesty, 
his freedom from simulated humility, his childlike candor 
and his beautiful transparency." 

In his memorial tributes to Christian men it seemed to be 
his almost invariable custom to follow them to the other world. 
He took his parting with them at the heavenly rather than 
the earthly gate. Many of his addresses could be mentioned 
that end in this fashion but there will be given here merely 
the closing picture in his tribute to Dr. Owen: 

"Ah, when I was riding the train from Philadelphia to 
Virginia and saw the telegraphic announcement of his death, 
the earth shook, my soul sank and darkness covered the hills. 
I hid my face and my soul got a glimpse of him as he sped 
beyond the stars and entered through the gates into the city. 
I felt poorer and yet I rejoiced that he had seen his Savior's 
face." 

Another one of his greatly prized friends died, — Dr. T. P. 
Matthews of Manchester, Va. The Doctor had a character 
that greatly appealed to him. At his funeral he drew his 
portrait: 

"Our brother" said he "stood on solid ancestral foundations. 
You do not grow giant trees without fineness of strain in the 
acorn. Blood, as a rule, makes the winning racer. Sometimes, 
I know, great families degenerate and wither under the waste 
of vices, and now and then those of low degree break away 
from their entanglements, leap over upper grades and mount 
to the top. 



532 TRIBUTES TO FRIENDS 

"We are glad it is so, but, as a rule of nature, it takes gen- 
erations to produce a high and commanding man. Our ances- 
tors live in us and it takes virtue and fibre of three generations 
to make men what they ought to be. Science and the Bible 
hold the doctrine of heredity as true and as solemn as the day 
of doom. 

"If you are curious to account for Dr. Matthews you must 
hunt up the old family records in the Bibles of his fathers and 
read the inscriptions on the slabs and granite columns in the 
old ancestral graveyards.' 7 

"Dr. Matthews could not shake off the consciousness of an 
honored manhood. He was by nature self assertive. His self 
respect was so inherent that he was never apologetic, never on 
the defensive, never trying to explain why he was not otherwise 
than he was." 

"He despised cheap and spurious things and would neither 
buy nor sell them. When I characterize my beloved friend 
as an honest man I speak of his inner being, his essential self, 
his genuineness and reality." 

The same gift that enabled him to preach great sermons on 
characters in the Bible also enabled him to portray vividly the 
characters of men of his own times. 

Concerning the death of his friend Dr. W. S. Penick he 
writes : 

"Dear old friend, many of those who loved you in the begin- 
ning have outstripped you in the march to the eternal world. 
Hosts of ministers and others who loved you await you on the 
other side and the thought of our separation from you is 
softened by the recollection that you had a royal reception 
when you entered the city of light. Good bye until we meet 
again." 

One of the products of his pen was a series of "Character 
Sketches", written at odd moments of time and published in 
different papers. His characters were nearly always ministers, 
such as "Rev. Magnus Ego," "Rev. Mr. Scowler," "Rev. 
Absalom Bustler," "Rev. Matthew Mattix," etc. The fol- 
lowing paragraphs are culled from his sketch of Mr. "Bustler." 

"Bro. Bustler is emphatically a flitter. No tender-footed 
bird ever hopped from limb to limb, from tree to earth quite 



CHARACTER SKETCHES 533 

so fast as our brother can whip from one thing to another. 
No place can contain him. No company can engage him. 
No book can absorb him. No duty can hold him. He always 
feels that the thing he is doing is an obstacle in the way of 
countless things which he ought to be doing. His thoughts 
put his hands to work at one place and then go dashing off 
after something else and before his hands have grappled their 
task they are suddenly ordered to some other point. Of 
course sobriety of thought and rational processes are things 
impossible with him. His poor mind gets sick, reels and blun- 
ders in hopeless confusion because never allowed time for 
meditation. 

"Mr. Bustler almost amounts to a circus in the Sunday 
school. By some odd fate he plunges into the Sunday school 
room at the most ill considered moment. One time he sprang 
in during the reading of the Scripture and spying a stranger 
over beyond the pulpit he went whirling by, stumbled over a 
chair, nearly fell prostrate and greeted the stranger with such 
noisy rapture that the Scripture lesson was a disaster. The 
teachers in the school make grievous complaint. They say 
that he plunges into their classes at the most serious points, 
insists on a hand shake with everybody, asks after the sev- 
eral families represented by the class and frequently fires off 
an irrelevant and ludicrous story. One teacher made it a 
rule to lock his room while the lesson was going on, but that 
very morning Brother Bustler was charged with messages 
for five different families and thundered and crashed at the 
door until the door was reluctantly opened. He delivered 
two or three of his messages, forgot two or three of them and 
closed his visit with a pathetic story the pathos of which was 
futile and disagreeable. 

"The music of the Sunday school is one of his specialties — 
he breaks up programs, calls for unsuitable songs, criticises 
the singing and beats time as if he were fighting hornets, 
greatly to the confusion of the music and to the noisy amuse- 
ment of the small boys. 

"Our brother is almost sinfully punctual He feels it sol- 
emnly incumbent upon him to begin the service on the stroke 
of the clock. He fixes himself at the entrance to the pulpit, 
he catches the stroke of the clock and bounds into the pul- 
pit like an athlete and throws up his hands as a sign for the 
people to rise to their feet. His promptness is absolutely 
ferocious and shocks the nerves of the old people and startles 



534 SUMMER TRAVELS 

the congregation in a dangerous and racking way. If he dis- 
covers visitors in the congregation he either beckons for the 
ushers or bounds out of the pulpit with a view of seeing that 
the new comers are supplied with hymn books. Now and then 
if old people are brought in or persons hard of hearing come 
in he meets them down the aisle and brings them up. He is 
the most consequential hand shaker that ever performed in 
his community. It is rather offensive to some of his people to 
see him spring from the pulpit and go storming down the 
aisle in order to hem in the crowd and shake with the out- 
goers. Most of the people try to avoid him by escaping through 
other doors; some are quite overwhelmed by his prolonged 
hand shakes." 

During the Summer his schedule called for visits to Asso- 
ciations, and sermons and addresses of all kinds. He had 
reached a condition in life for which he had often yearned and 
that was a condition of freedom to go and to labor wherever 
he might wish. His income, while not large, was sufficient 
for the needs of himself and his family and enabled him £ 
respond to the calls for his labors — and no music was so sweet 
to his ears as these calls. If the calls had stopped coming to him 
he would have been in his grave. But he went, went in every 
direction, went to the little churches as well as to the large 
ones, visited the obscure country lad as well as the man high 
in official life, went into other states as well as through Vir- 
ginia. All over Virginia this summer men were meeting Dr. 
Hatcher on the train, or in their communities, and as they 
greeted him they were wondering that at his advanced age, 
he kept so young and labored so indefatigably. 

"Here I am this Monday morning" he writes to his wife on 
July 22nd from Careby Hall "head over heels at work with 
my correspondence, mailing catalogues and getting ready to 
go away tomorrow. I go to the Dover Association tomorrow 
and to Elizabeth City Friday. Next week I go to the Rap- 
pahannock Association which meets in the Northern Neck. 

"I went yesterday to the Buckingham church. Ah Fong 
went with me and he is invited to speak at one of the Buck- 
ingham churches this week. . I have quite decided twinges 
of sciatica and walk bent and with a sort of side step," 



ADDRESS AT INDIANAPOLIS 535 

After holding his fourth series of evangelistic meetings at 
Wake Forest College he went to Indianapolis, where he de- 
livered an address before the Baptist Social Union of that city. 
The subject was "The Building of the American Gentleman." 

"A gentleman", says he, "is supposed to be the best output, 
the finest product, of the civilization of the country to which 
he belongs. . . . Every country and even every barbarous 
tribe produces its best man." 

The speaker then proceeds to tell how America has been 
seeking by devious ways to bring her own best man, her "gen- 
tleman", to completion so that she could regard him as a 
finished product. "In colonial times" said he "the scions of 
the titled classes were shipped to this country, — usually not 
the best material". Having failed to build our gentlemen out 
of this imported stock we have, — according to the speaker, — 
"built our gentlemen after foreign models." After referring 
to Washington's weakness for knee buckles and powder and 
Jefferson's hankering for French habits and many people's 
preference for clothes with a British misfit he affirms that 
"when the American gentleman arrives his Americanism will 
be his distinguishing mark." 

"I had a friend" he says "one of the noblest of all the earth — 
who said to me in the prime of his manhood that his supreme 
aspiration, from his youth, was to be a gentleman, but that he 
had concluded reluctantly that it was beyond his attainment. 
Through many years he and I would meet and I would ask 
him how went the struggle. 'I have seen him' he would say 
'but not with these mortal eyes. I have glimpsed him in 
visions of enraptured fancy and the sight thrilled me, but it is 
too high for me; it is vain to hope. I cannot attain unto it 
but the vision has enobled me and though I die outside the 
gate I will feel the better that I saw the gentleman in my dream.' 
I thought that my friend was like a prince and he was and yet 
he was not a gentleman." 

"The gentleman for whom we are searching must not be 
simply a gentleman but he must be an American gentleman. . 
. . What is America. .. It is ... a country which 



536 LETTER TO DR. E. B. BRYAN 

stands on the platform which offers every citizen a chance. 
Not that every citizen can be a gentleman, nor that all can be 
equal, but the essential American idea is to give every man a 
chance to work out his destiny. 

"I lay it down as my closing proposition that every Baptist 
ought to be a gentleman. . . The fundamental idea of a 
Baptist is personal responsibility." 

He went to Franklin, Indiana where he enjoyed some de- 
lightful hours with his friend, President E. B. Bryan. After 
his visit to Franklin he wrote the following letter to Dr. Bryan 
that exhibits two of his traits, — his interest in young people 
and his enthusiasm for progress: 

"I must not forget to extend to you my soul's tribute for 
your exceeding gracious hospitality. My visit to your home 
was a pleasure unmixed and can never be forgotten. 

"My heart warmed for the scarred slugger who sat across 
the table from me and I feel that when your hair grows gray 
and twinges of pain wrench your knees he will be a tower of 
strength for you to lean upon. I marked too the radiant face 
of what I suppose is too large to call your baby. 

"Most of all my thoughts have gone out to Miss Helen who 
is now on Virginia soil and whose prosperity I must not cease 
to pray for. 

"Let me add that the College was a surprise to me. Signs 
of growth and prosperity in any good thing are intoxicants 
always to me, but — what was far better than that — was the 
spirit of the school, intangible, potent and refreshing." 

He put Louisville on his schedule for this Western trip and 
wrote me from that city: 

"My Dear E, — Here I am at dear old Louisville. I ate 
supper with the Carys last night and was in imminent danger of 
being eaten up by the Carys. 

"I supply the pulpit at Broadway tomorrow and go Monday 
to Huntingdon, W. Va., where I am to help Wood in a meeting. 
My visit to Indianapolis was fine in many things but crip- 
pled sorely by a storm, — a wild, blowing, beating, tempestuous 
rain. My theme was, 'The building of the American Gentleman' 
and I dont think he was quite up to the mark after I got him 



MEETINGS AT HUNTINGTON, W. VA. 537 

built. I know if he was a gentleman I did not feel like one 
when I got through. Of course the delicious platitudes of such 
an occasion were lavished upon me and mitigated my sorrows 
in a measure. 

"The radiant episode in my trip was a day spent at Franklin 
College. It was rich in many things, some of which I may tell 
you about in the future. 

"I understand that Dr. B. H. Carroll takes me to task in the 
Western Recorder for some things in the appeal which I made 
recently for the Seminary. I have not seen the article but I 
am a great lover of Dr. Carroll and there can be no strife 
between me and him, nor between my bondsmen and his 
bondsmen. I can make no reply that will not be absolutely 
fraternal. Meanwhile my soul is righteously burdened about 
our Seminary. I glory much in what it is and sigh much for 
the things it ought to be and will be, but is not yet. We ought 
to have a million more for its endowment." 

During his Louisville visit he took a meal one day with 
the young ministers at the Seminary and one of them thus 
referred in the papers to his visit : 

"This princely father in Israel whose pen and voice haye 
edified so many thousands, dined with us in the hall and upon 
invitation made a most felicitous response before the students." 

He went the latter part of November to Huntington, W. Va., 
to aid Dr. M. L. Wood in meetings. 

Dr. Wood thus writes in the Herald concerning his visit: 

"Though the passing winters have bleached his locks into 
snowy whiteness, still his bow abides in strength. . . As he 
has grown older his spirit has grown mellower in grace and his 
preaching is characterized by a tenderness and pathos that is 
winsome and beautiful. . It seems to have been a joy to him 
to cheer the obscure lad with a friendly notice." 

He delivered a memorial address on Dr. J. W. Carter, who 
died during his meetings at Huntington, and in the address he 
said of Dr. Carter, "He went to sleep at night and next morn- 
ing woke up in Heaven." 



538 APOSTOLIC SUCCESSION 

He writes me two days before Christmas: 

"Here is a letter from dear old Bob Winfree — nobilissimus 
f rater — begging with hysteric fondness that we will come to his 
house next Friday and go out on Sunday to a meeting at 
Tomahawk and come home on Monday. There is enchantment 
in the invitation, but I doubt whether we can accept it. I am 
about willing however to leave the matter to you and if you 
say so I will meet you Friday in Richmond and we will try 
the charming adventure. 

"But how could we? Dear me, what shall we do? Do what 
we may we will wish we had done the other and yet we can be 
happy in doing either. What do you say?" 

"Monday 3 P. M. 

"Orie just come." 

A gentleman had written to him asking him for his opinion 
on two subjects; first, the date when "the first Baptist church" 
was organized, and second, the doctrine of "Apostolic Suc- 
cession". In his reply, regarding the "first Baptist church" 
he refers him to the early accounts of the Apostles, and adds 
that the "churches spoken of in the New Testament are the 
churches after which our Baptist churches are modeled. They 
have the same ordinances, the same terms of admission, the 
same independence and the same spirit of brotherhood." 
Regarding "Apostolic Succession" he writes: 

"Apostolic Succession is the rediculous sand upon which 
some people undertake to build what they call a Historical 
Church. The Apostles had no successors and if any body has 
an Apostolic church it must be the Roman Catholics for they 
are the oldest. 

"Those who know more about church history than I do claim 
that there have been churches of our faith and order straight 
through from the time of the Apostles. I think that there is 
much proof in favor of their claim but I do not build on that 
at all. If you were one great sinner, living far away in a com- 
munity of sinners — not a christian anywhere near — and if 
you should get hold of a Bible and study it earnestly and faith- 
fully and be gloriously converted by the power of God and God 
should call you to preach the gospel and bless you with con- 



APOSTOLIC SUCCESSION 539 

verting power and multitudes should be saved and you should 
take them and baptize them in the name of the Trinity and 
they, after accepting the Scripture as the Word of God, should 
set up a church after the order of a New Testament church 
requiring conversion and believers baptism and organize them- 
selves for worship and work it would really be a Baptist church 
and just like the churches named in the New Testament.' ' 



CHAPTER XXXIX 

1908 

MEETINGS AT EUTAW PLACE, BALTIMORE; FRANKLIN COLLEGE, IND.J 

TREMONT TEMPLE, BOSTON, AND COLGATE UNIVERSITY, N. Y. 

CONVENTION AT HOT SPRINGS. VARIED ACTIVITIES. 

RAILROAD ACCIDENT. "JOHN JASPER." 

The year 1908 was destined to bring him some rich experiences 
and was one of the most memorable years of his life. He con- 
ducted a very successful series of meetings in January at the 
Eutaw Place Church and we had the joy of having him in our 
home during the time. During this visit he made great pro- 
gress on the Jasper book. 

"Eldridge and myself have done valorous service on the 
immortal John [Jasper]" he writes his wife. "Our plan is to 
have about forty thousand words in sight." 

I wrote on my typewriter at his dictation and the words 
came from him as fast as I could write them and they went 
practically unchanged to the publisher. 

"It depressed me to break the charm of my lovely sojourn 
in your home," he writes me. "I cannot recall in all my life 
happier times than we had together." 

"Our meeting at Troutville" he writes on January 30th 
"closed in a blaze of glory. . . had a happy night with 
Kate and got to Careby yesterday afternoon." 

The First Baptist Church of Baltimore invited him to become 
supply pastor at this time but his plans for the future made him 

540 



REV. R. H. WINFREE 541 

unable to accept the invitation. From Franklin College, 
Indiana where he went to hold revival meetings he writes: 

"I am idling away my time today with speaking at the High 
School and afterwards at the College this morning, then 
going to the country for dinner, finishing my S. S. Notes and 
am engaged to go out for supper this evening and have the 
services at the church tonight." 

He writes to Rev. R. H. Winfree, of Midlothian Chester- 
field County: 

"The joys of my visit here seem to come from the very river 
of life. 

"But no worldly joy or honor could ever change my love for 
you and yours and my last visit to your house was loaded with 
richest pleasures. It makes me sad, however, when I leave 
your house because I get there so rarely and I wonder how soon 
I shall make my last leap from the Midlothian train. 

"I hope you are preaching great sermons — you are capable 
of them and you must surprise your people with every new 
homiletical shot." 

" Thursday morning. Great meeting last night. You ought 
to have seen the men come up". 

From Parkersburg, W, Va., whither he went from Franklin, 
he writes to Dr. E. B. Bryan: 

"My soul's friend, — I count it as one of God's great mercies 
that he has allowed me to know you. My firste taste of you in 
November quickened the coursing of my blood and made every 
thought of you a pleasure. 

"But let me say that my incomparable experience in Frank- 
lin lately put everything up higher. My heart took you in 
without examination and admitted you to the inner court 
of love and fellowship. Now I find that every thought of you 
is an inspiration and a joy. 

"The Lord was extravagant in his bestowment of power upon 
you and I am glad to see that he requires that all of it 
shall be used for him. I rejoice that you live in an atmosphere 
of sobriety, that the light of Heaven gleams always on your 
pathway and that the future is yours as well as the past. 

"This is purely a love letter. I have no need of your grind- 



542 LETTER FROM DR. E. B. BRYAN 

stone, and have money enough left me during the week and do 
not want to be recommended to any position, unless you are 
willing to strangle the 'Powls' and, with their blood upon you, 
are willing to name me as their successor. 

"Give a world of love to Mrs. Bryan and the children. Tell 
Julian that I am not quite sure whether he would suit better 
for the new Baptist university which we are to have at Pekin, 
or whether I would prefer for him to be the U. S. Attorney 
General in 1928 when he will be strong enough to show his 
Baptist colors seven days in a week in the city of Washington. 
Say to Mrs. Bryan that she has quite an interesting proposition 
on her hands to get three children fully equipped to lead the 
millennial march in the next generation. Tell her that she is 
due in Virginia and that I want the whole Bryan contingent 
to breathe Vriginia air and get into their blood some of the 
ozone which made Washington, Munroe, Lee and did a great 
deal in making Kentucky and Indiana. 

" Yours to the end of the run." 

In reply Dr. Bryan wrote as follows on March 14 : 

"Your good letter came while I was away lecturing in Mich- 
igan. I have read it over and over again and every time I read 
it I have a new spoke put into my wheel. If you can realize 
in only a small way how much good you have done me and 
what a blessing you have been to me since first we met, you will 
not regret any time that you have spent in our midst. You 
have rendered a large and permanent service to the college 
and I am sure that the results of your work cannot be told in 

time. I was walking with this afternoon and acting 

upon the suggestion carried in your letter, I pounded him in the 
small of the back, which by-the-way, was all over his back 
because his back is small all over. I'll tell you, he's a dear good 
man and is doing great things for us. 

"At the table this evening Julian said that there were twenty- 
one boys out to the first Base-ball practice. He is short a 
pitcher and wondered if you could serve — he said he did not 
think they would get on to your curves. I am really expecting 
large things of the boy if he can ever find time to stop and sit 
up and take notice. 

"I should be very glad to have letters from you from time 
to time. Nothing could give me a larger boost and certainly, 
when I go flat, as I suppose most men do at times, I need a 



TREMONT TEMPLE 543 

tremendous stimulus to bring me up. Mrs. Bryan wishes to be 
remembered most kindly to you and expresses the hope that 
we may have you in our home many times. 

"With all good wishes for your services and kindness to the 
College and to me personally I remain. 

"Yours Affectionately 

"E. B. Bryan." 

"I am suffering much in my back and other things" he writes 
his wife from Parkersburg. "I am wondering whether I am 
not near the pulling off station." 

"What a record you are making", writes Mr. David E. 
Johnson, a Parkersburg attorney, "and keeping it up at the 
same old pace now when you may be seventy-five, — though 
as young as when I first saw you forty years ago. Oh, the 
physical man may be aged a little, but that is'nt the man. You 
never preached better in your life, I think. . . I want to 
thank you especially for that discourse yesterday." 

But already two important revival campaigns loom on his 
path, — the first to be held at Tremont Temple, Boston and 
the other at Hamilton, New York, the seat of Colgate Univer- 
sity. The pastor of Tremont Temple — at that time one of 
the most prominent churches in the United States, — was Dr. 
P. S. Henson, himself about seventy-four years old, while Dr. 
Hatcher was the same age. Far back in the sixties — during 
the days of the war — he and Dr. Henson had been yoked 
together in a country revival meeting at old Fine Creek in 
Powhatan County and it looked as if Dr. Henson could never 
out-grow the memory of those happy days; and in his large city 
pastorates he ever seemed to hanker after getting Dr. Hatcher 
to come and hold a protracted meeting with him. I remember 
meeting him in Chicago once and he said to me, "Oh, tell your 
father to come out here and let us hold an old fashioned pro- 
tracted meeting together." His wish was now to be realized. 
He had already written Dr. Hatcher telling him of the extensive 
preparations that were being made for the meetings and he 
then adds: 



544 TREMONT TEMPLE 

"Please let me know the precise time of your expected arrival, 
so that we may meet you and safe-guard you against the bunco 
steerers that are always lying in wait for the tender foot." 

On January 27th, Dr. Henson writes again: 

"My Dear Old Boy, — The assurance of your coming 
to us has given great delight to my people and myself. . . 
Our congregations range from 2,000 to 3,000 and more eager 
hearers no man ever had than one finds in the Temple. It is 
the easiest and altogether the best preaching place I was ever 
in and if a man can't preach there he can't preach anywhere, 
so that if you dont have the time of your life then I shall know 
that you are N. G. 

"Let me know meanwhile, and at an early date, about what 
time you may be expected to show your 'head-light' in Boston 
that we may have the round house ready. 

"With much love and great hope. 
"Yours Ever, 

"P. S. Henson." 

He looked forward with heavy anxieties to his Boston meet- 
ings. They began on April 2nd, and it must have been an 
interesting sight to see these two veterans of many a campaign 
linked together in such a movement in such a city and in such 
a church. Extensive preparations had been made. From 
Boston he writes on April 4th: 

"I was welcomed by blinding snows and ocean gales, sleet 
and slush. Last night we had our opening service — largely 
attended and full of spiritual power. They sang old revival 
hymns and I almost fancied that I was at Bethlehem in Chester- 
field. I am surely advertised and my grim picture frowns in 
windows and newspapers." 

"I am yet in the grip of my cold" he writes "and my old 
voice rattled like a shuck in the wind". 

Sunday was always a pivotal day with him in his meetings. 
Concerning his first Sunday in Boston he writes: 

"This is Monday. My wretched old throat has played 
cruel pranks on me and I have fairly filled the Back Bay 



TREMONT TEMPLE 545 

country with my squeaks and shrieks but I am living yet and 
hope you are well. 

"Things opened yesterday with majestic auspiciousness. 
Crowd big in the morning and far bigger at night. . . My 
dulness yesterday amounted to a crisis and yet the indications 
were fine. 

"Later: Glorious Monday night meeting." 

"At noon today" he writes his wife. "I am to preach to 
Union Conference of Boston Ministers — about five or six 
hundred of them, Henson says. 

"Old acquaintances are floating up on the tide and I rejoice 
in them." 

He writes me on the 11th: 

"Our meeting is too good to despise and not great enough 
to satisfy. . . I am perpetually ashamed of myself and do 
nothing that satisfies me. I told them to discharge me any 
morning and it would be for the good of the Cause. But their 
kindness is past finding out. . . Some of the deacons are 
transportingly sympathetic. They come in their carriages to 
take me to the meetings, give me beautiful drives, anticipate 
all my wants and treat me far better than I am entitled to 
on the score of my merits. 

"I was out at Newton [Seminary] yesterday, took lunch with 
the boys and gave them a talk. They were very demon- 
strative and I hope that some of the shot got under the skin. 

"I have not preached well here and have felt the depression 
of it. My voice grew unmanageably bad and I have occasional 
solitudes under the juniper tree. 

"I am much of my time alone at the hotel, too much I think 
and I spend too much in feeling ashamed of myself. We look 
for greater things tomorrow and next week. 

"I am tortured with great desires and cheered with the hopes 
of yet better things." 

The climax came at last, as is seen from his card written on 
Sunday afternoon: 

"Immortally glorious times this morning! Dr. Henson 
says he has seen nothing like it before. Many conversions. 
Had two services — first, the sermon and then in Sunday School. 
Great crowds and grace abounding." 



546 TREMONT TEMPLE 

He wrote again: 

"It was grace and glory combined this morning; like the 
break-up of an ice gorge. Many conversions and great crowds. 

"After night service 

"Terrible fire tonight and many Temple people burned out. 
But large crowd and great interest. It has been a blessed day." 

The meeting moved to a rich conclusion. He wrote his 
wife on Wednesday, "Friends are preparing to give me a 
reception at noon. They are wonderfully fine folks and I am 
sure that it will be of the royal sort, but I would be glad to 
swap it for a handshake with a good game of quoits. This is 
written just as I am waiting for carriage to take me to church 
and in the wildest sort of haste." 

He writes in the Argus the following breezy sketch : 

"It touched me in a peculiarly sensitive point when Dr. P. S. 
Henson asked me to come to Boston and help him in a revi- 
val. You see he and I roved the same bridle ways of Chester- 
field and Powhatan and other sections of Virginia in the cal- 
low days of — well, how long do you reckon it was ago? For 
Henson's sake I answer not. We had worked in harness on 
previous occasions and though possibly our muscles are not 
quite so flexible as they have been, I felt a purely human desire 
to feel the jerk of the traces again. Inasmuch as my ardent 
and distinguished friend, Deacon A. T. Eddy, of the Temple 
church backed up Henson, and said it was the thing to do, 
and as I have next to nothing to do except such things as other 
people tell me to do, I defied my inertia and went. 

"When I stepped out of the train at the Boston station, I 
saw the scudding snow, the gleaming sleet and the slush 
abounding, and just about then I swallowed a section of east 
wind which ripped up my throat, went off with my voice and 
made me wonder whether it was ever thus. It was ever thus 
for three straight days and when I first opened my mouth on 
a Boston audience, the untraveled part of it wondered if all 
Southerners were croakers of the same sort. 

"But some things in Boston are hot — jubilantly, livingly hot, 
one of which is a Tremont Temple welcome. Of course Hen- 



COLGATE UNIVERSITY 547 

son did his part — he had to whether he wished it or not, but 
here and now and before the unassembled earth I gratefully 
testify to the cordiality, brotherliness and superb "esprit de 
corps" of that imperial church. They were good to me at the 
start, good along the way and considerate, affectionate and 
ready for every good work to the moment of ending. 

"The meeting commenced on April the 5th and ran until the 
night of April the 17th, and when it ceased to run, I had to 
run with might and main to catch a train for Hamilton, N. Y., 
the seat of Colgate University where I am to have the joy un- 
tenable of preaching the Gospel to the great assemblage of 
young people in that town." 

With the echoes of his Boston experiences gladdening his 
heart he hurries away to Hamilton, New York, where he is 
destined to have one of the most powerful meetings of his 
life. At Hamilton was Colgate University, which included 
Colgate Theological Seminary. From Dr. Henson came the 
following letter : 

"It is a delight to be in touch with you, whether near at 
hand, or far away, for you are a live wire with all the thrill 
and none of the shock. We missed you mightily when you 
were gone, but your "remains" are still with us and there is 
as much quickening power in them as there was in Elisha's 
bones. Long time will your messages wake the echoes in the 
Temple. 

"With love that brightens with the years, in which the little 
woman joins and which includes not only you but yours, 

"Henson." 

Dr. Hatcher wrote in the Herald an article on Dr. Henson, 
that was dashed off in his sprightliest style. One paragraph 
of it reads as follows : 

"We hate to say that Henson is popular. It is a hurtful thing 
to say against a respectable man, and we make haste to ex- 
plain that he is fortunate enough not to be happy with every- 
body. To his credit, be it said, he has had his critics by the 
score and his detractors by the several scores. Henson is a 
most inconvenient man to hate. He is so mercurial, bouyant 
and self-reliant that he absolutely forgets his enemies — the 



548 THE JASPER BOOK 

most unpitying cruelty which can be inflicted upon a gratui- 
tous foe. Many have sought to lure Poindexter Smith to the 
dissecting room with a view to an operation, but ubiquitous 
as he is, Henson has never been willing to attend the cere- 
mony." 

In the meantime the day for the publication of his Jasper 
book is approaching and he is kept busy reading proof. 

" Jasper proof blows in every day" he writes me from Ham- 
ilton, "and I am well advanced on it. . It would kill me to 
have 'De Sun do move' as the title of the book. It would 
outrage the spirit in which it is written, play on Jasper's weak 
point and be an unseemly bid for trade." 

"As to the title let us try these and decide: 

" 'Jasper, the Unmatched Genius of his Race.' 
'John Jasper, the Master of his Masters.' 
'John Jasper, the Peerless Son of Africa.' 
'John Jasper, the Wizard of the Platform.' 

"I would leave off the 'Rev.' from him and, for myself, I 
would like to be written thus : 

'William E. Hatcher, LL. D.' 

"We might get Henson of Tremont Temple, or Mullins, or 
Ex-Governor Montague, or Dr. Greene of Washington, to 
write an introduction. 

"I would think that a few things as to my history ought to go 
in — just enough to put me in my proper place before the public. 
It needs to be only a few sentences in the introduction." 

Again on the same date: 

"I have written you once today and here I come again. I 
have almost decided to put the title of my book 'John Jasper', 
the Negro Orator of Fluvanna' and get Henson to write the 
foreword of the book. What do you think of it? 

"Tell Anna 'Hello Anna,' grandfather wants to see her." 

Night by night the meetings continued at Hamilton until 
the great climax came on Sunday May 3rd. That must indeed 
have been a day of Pentecostal glories. 



COLGATE UNIVERSITY 549 

"We had the greatest meeting last Sunday" he writes "that 
I ever saw in my life. Over a hundred conversions during the 
day, probably nine-tenths of whom were over seventeen years 
of age." 

Even to this day they are talking in Hamilton about those 
wonderful meetings by Dr. Hatcher, and the influence of them 
have spread far and wide. Here is a letter from a young gentle- 
man written five years after the meetings, and showing one 
of his methods of dealing with the students in the meeting: 

"Dr. Hatcher lorged to get into informal touch with the 
students so he whispered to one or two of the college men that 
he wished he might dine at some of the fraternities. I invited 
that old gentleman with white head to my chapter house for 
dinner. The boys wondered at such an act but their wonder 
was greater and different when he began to joke and tell stories 
and soon had them in a roar of laughter. After dinner he said, 
'Don't you fellows sing?' About twenty-five of us gathered 
around the piano in the music room and for a half hour gladly 
entertained him with college and fraternity songs. He enjoyed 
it immensely. Suddenly he arose and said, 'Well, boys, I must 
go. Say, you've given me a fine time, and I actually feel 
indebted to you. Now I want to do something to reciprocate 
your kindness. I'm holding meetings every night in the Baptist 
Church down here and I just want you to come down and I'll 
try to give you fellows as good a time as you've given me. I'm 
preaching Jesus Christ and I'll guarantee you'll have a good 
time if you come. Well good-bye.' The boys went. They 
went in crowds and four of the young men from our own 
fraternity took a firm stand for Jesus Christ and the Christian 
life." 

Dr. Masters writes in the Herald of a little incident in a 
Railroad Sleeper while he was enroute for Hot Springs, for the 
meeting of the Southern Baptist Convention in May: 

"Then from across the aisle in berth number 2. came a call 
from Dr. Hatcher for the porter's assistance. I looked and the 
berth on which the Doctor had essayed to rest had collapsed 
for a foot in the middle, and he besought the porter to yank 
it up and prop it in a horizontal position. The Doctor declared 



550 FORK UNION 

that the mattress was more than a foot shorter than the berth 
and had been pieced out by stuffed-in blankets. The upper 
section of the upholstered seat-back hung loose above his head 
and at each fresh lurch of the car would knock against his head. 
Next morning, when I asked how he felt, he said he had slept 
better in his time but was thankful to be living." 

After attending the Commencement at Fork Union he dashed 
off to Chester, S. C, where he was engaged to hold revival 
meetings, and from which place he writes me: 

"My anxious flight back to Virginia and the wear and tear 
of Commencement at Fork Union did me up quite tragically. 

"I landed here after midnight on Saturday night feeling 
like a fugitive from injustice and unfit for anything. I almost 
imagine that people here suppose that they have sent the wrong 
man and are wondering what became of the man who promised 
to hold a meeting here. 

"Fork Union is riding me hard. We have no Headmaster 
and, with the Catalogue, campaign and organization of Faculty 
and bothers of farming and my entangling engagements, I 
feel that this is a hard world to live in. 

"If you are so hopelessly bad as not to be able to give your 
life to Fork Union — as I expect you are — then I pray you to 
tell me where to find a man . . . Tell William that he and 
the Lynchburg kids had better open the restaurant at Careby 
Hall about the first of June." 

Colgate University sent him a gift, — a new title for his name 
as is seen from the following letter: 

"Colgate University, 

"Hamilton, N. Y. 

"Rev. William E. Hatcher, D. D., LL. D., 

"Fork Union, Virginia: 

"My Dear Dr. Hatcher, — It is the desire of the trustees 
and faculty of Colgate University to confer upon you at the 
next Commencement the honorary degree of Doctor of Humane 
Letters. I trust that it may be agreeable to you to receive 
the degree and shall be gratified to receive notice to that effect. 



IN THE NORTHERN NECK 551 

It would be very pleasant to us if you could be present on 
Commencement Day, June twenty-fifth to receive this degree 
in person. 

"Sincerely Yours, 

"H. N. Cranshaw, 
"Acting President." 

He picked his way over into the Northern Neck of Virginia 
for a church dedication on the first Sunday in June. Among 
the visitors present was Dr. V. I. Masters who thus writes: 

"We shall never forget him as we saw him one Sunday night 
in early Summer in 1908 at the dedication of a little church 
made up largely of fisher folk, away over on the Northern 
Neck of Virginia on the shores of the Chesapeake. Coming 
unexpectedly into the thronged room with a ministerial friend, 
we found him sitting in the pulpit while the people gathered. 
Joy beamed from his fine attractive face and he was evidently 
happy. He espied us, and with a certain gladsome humor, that 
he indulged without ever sacrificing the essence of decorum, 
he marshaled us into the pulpit stand, which was already 
overflowing with flowers and preachers and proceeded with 
the service. This included a great sermon by Dr. Hatcher on 
Zaccheus, which was in its simplicity in perfect accord with 
the modes of thought of his hearers. 

"To us that night in a little country church on the shores 
of the Chesapeake, remote from centers where men do much 
foregather and pass to and fro, Dr. Hatcher seemed as a loving 
father whose children were all members of the household 
of faith, or as a king who dignified the plain, diminutive plat- 
form into a throne by the sheer strength and worth of his 
personality." 

Lynchburg was one of his frequent stopping places because 
it was there that his daughter Kate and two grandchildren, 
Virginia and Katherine lived, and in their home he found 
happy companionship and rest. 

"I envy you the joy of being at Kate's" he wrote his wife 
a few weeks earlier in the Summer. "That is my delight — 
nothing on the earth more cheering and restful than Kate's 
ever cheering kindness." 



552 BLUEFIELD 

From Lynchburg he writes me on June 19th concerning his 

sister: 

"I have been to Bedford to bury aunt Margaret. It was 
a great occasion. Honors thick and rich attended her. It 
pulled me quite sharply to realize that only I, of all who once 
sat at my father's table, still survive. And yet, I cannot think 
of death without an abounding sense of cheerfulness and 
triumph. 

"Now an item of business: 

"We had a chapter on the Death and Funeral of Jasper but 
in some way that got left out. Mr. Revell writes me that they 
never received it. It is barely possible that it is mixed in the 
whirlwind of your glorious confusion. If it is'nt then Jasper 
will have to go to his crown without a funeral, though I know 
he had one, because I helped to preach it. I leave this after- 
noon for Bluefield." 

Bluefield was a bustling city in the mountainous south- 
western section of the state but it had a young pastor of whom 
he was greatly fond, — Rev. Harry W. Mabie. 

In writing from Bluefield about his letter to Mr. F. H. 
Revell, the New York publisher of his Jasper book, he said 
among other things: 

I told him also that those whom I had consulted thought 
that some of my titles ought to accompany my name. I told 
him that he could put LL. D. or L. H. D. or both, or neither, 
so far as Brer Hatcher cares about it." 

Rev. A. W. Bealer writes him a cheering letter: 

"I have just read an article of yours in the Herald and I 
remarked to my wife that nobody could tell a thing with as 
much originality as could William E. Hatcher and that it was 
as refreshing to the mind as a sea breeze is on a Summer day. 
I pray that the Lord will spare you long to bless us with your 
loving presence. 

"Wont you send me one of your photographs? . . I want 
my boys to look upon the face of William E. Hatcher and per- 
haps in the years that are to come something of his spirit, 
if not of his mantle may fall upon them." 



VISITING THE ASSOCIATION 553 

One of the chapters of his Jasper book, — the one telling 
of Jasper's conversion — had been already published in a booklet 
and Dr. Weston, President of Crozer Seminary, thus writes 
to him: 

"Dear Dr. Hatcher, — I have just read, — for the I do not 
know how manyeth time, — your touching account of the con- 
version of Jasper. My tears flowed fast, as they always do 
when I read the story." 

He then added that he wanted twenty copies to be distributed 
among ministerial friends. 

From far away Seattle, in Washington state, came a letter 
from Dr. L. B. Whitman, pastor of the First Church of that 
city, and a former president of Columbian University: 

"The news of your resignation as president of the Board 
of Trustees of Richmond College loosens a flood of tender 
memories in my life. I wonder if you have any idea how strong 
and beautiful and helpful your life is. We are all your debtors 
forever." 

"The Associations are to open soon" he writes on July 6th 
"and as I have no one on earth to help me about the patronage 
of the Academy I will have to travel day and night." 

"Think of it! Seventy five years old and yet scudding through 
the state, in sweltering weather and on all sorts of trains and 
conveyances, from Association to Association, sounding the 
Fork Union trumpet and seeking to corral boys for his beloved 
school. 

"I find myself so utterly fagged out" he writes his wife on 
Aug. 6th "that I have decided to come to Fork Union Monday 
and rest. Say nothing about this but quietly send for me. I'll 
come up from Richmond on the morning train and lay up for 
repairs. Tell Mercer [stenographer] that I will need him at 
2:30 P. M." 

He was to "lay up for repairs" on that day and at 2:30 he 
wanted his stenographer. It was generally thus that his plans 
for rest worked out. 



554 AH FONG 

He carried at this time the entire responsibilities of the 
Academy and the load was heavy. As an example of his 
bothers was the following: A gentleman who had a boy at 
the academy had become very delinquent in the matter of 
paying for his boy and he had written this gentleman a strong 
letter urging a remittance. He replied to the request in an al- 
most insulting tone and Dr. Hatcher wrote him a kind but firm 
letter in reply closing as follows : 

"I treat you as a gentleman and a brother and there is no 
need for you to deal roughly with me. At any rate I think 
if you were going to abuse me, you ought to pay the bill first 
and then turn yourself loose on me if you must." 

He supplied one Sunday at Eutaw Place during the Summer 
and in writing me how they treated him he said, "They ovated 
me to the spoiling point." 

His Chinese boy "Ah Fong" spoke at both services on Sunday 
at the First Baptist Church in Richmond and Dr. George W. 
McDaniel, the pastor of the church and one of Dr. Hatcher's 
greatly beloved friends, thus writes Mrs. Hatcher: 

"It would have overjoyed you, as it delighted me, to hear 
Ah Fong last night. They say he did even better in the morning. 
He spoke clearly and interestingly and the great congregation 
hung eagerly upon his words. The cash collection for him 
amounted to $52.62 and he embarrassed us by his gratitude. 
To know how he pleased our people will doubtless be some 
compensation to you and Dr. Hatcher for the efforts and 
sacrifices which you have made in his behalf. To have trained 
such a young man is an invaluable contribution to Christian 
civilization. Remember me affectionately to all your family." 

In speaking one day before the Shiloh Association Dr. 
Hatcher said: 

"I have found life beautiful and joyous. There is much that 
is good in this life. Still there are many reasons why I should 
not care to stay on here always . But there is one reason — 
only one why I should like to live on a good while longer. 



IN A RAILROAD WRECK 555 

The outlook for the Baptists is so bright, the possibilities easily 
within their reach so great I should like to live a good while 
longer just to see what the Baptists will accomplish. And who 
knows but that up yonder I shall walk out on the battlements 
of heaven and look down upon my brethren and rejoice with 
them in their achievements." 

He was in a serious railroad accident while traveling from 
Newport News to Richmond. He had with him a lad whom he 
was taking to the Academy for the Preparatory Department. 
His vivid account of the wreck furnishes interesting reading 
and shows that his good sense and self-control did not desert 
him even in the hour of disaster: 

"There was no warning of what was to be. It came in a 
second. A noise — such a clashing, roaring, confusing, grating, 
crashing noise it was — jarred the heavens, put the earth to 
shaking and spoke terror to the neighborhood. An old farmer 
was quietly feeding his horse in his stable off on his plantation 
and he was hit by that indescribable fury of hostile sounds 
and came flying like a hunted maniac to the scene. He said 
that he knew at once that it told of destruction and sorrow 
which called for help and he was there to do his part. As for 
myself, — Nil. I heard it, felt the shiver of it, — felt it as it 
swept every nerve and tissue of my being — felt its sting in the 
center of life and went sore from it for days — felt its jar worse 
than the harrowing terrors of the earthquake. 

"First the splitting, deadly roar. Then the jerk of the train 
and the leap of the front end of my car from the track and its 
breaking crash into the car ahead. 

"Then I knew what it was. So far as I recall there was no 
sense of fear but quick dread of mangling and wounds. But 
I knew no thought of escape; my life was bound up with the 
train. Where it went I must go ; what bef el it, was coming to me. 
The passengers bolted to the front to get out. I was swept on 
to the front by the rush, but the car was jammed into the other 
car and egress was shut off. I cared not, for in flight I saw no 
safety. My part was to wait. I peeped out of the window and 
I saw that we were on an embankment and had stopped. 

"Meanwhile my little Norfolk "Prep" was brightening and 
blossoming into a hero. At the first clang of the shock he 
neatly inverted and landed on his head but he righted up in- 






556 SALUDA, S. C. 

stantly and with rare self-forgetfulness though he had just 
come into my hands that morning, he seemed concerned only 
for me. He ran to the front to see if he could find a way for me 
to escape and, failing in that, he rushed to the rear to see what 
could be done in that direction and, unmindful of his own peril, 
dashed back and seizing my hand pressed me to come out. 
There was a touch of old time heroism in the lad's conduct 
which attracted admiring attention. As a fact I was not hurt 
except by the sickening jar at the first. 

"The engineer was a martyr. He cut loose the train and 
went down with the engine to death. He only lost his life and 
all the passengers who suffered met their fate in needless efforts." 

Regarding the above racking experience he writes: 

"As I had been whirling up and down the earth for more than 
a half century on roads of various gauges and grades and in ever 
so many countries and had never had a serious shake-up, I 
would think it out of all grace and taste to raise a resentful 
complaint. We must take our good mixed with evil and on 
that point I bow the meek head." 

He went in September to Saluda in S. C. and on his way had 
his valise stolen and he writes; "With it went nearly all my 
faded finery. But we need not mourn departed clothes. I am 
delightfully situated and am determined to be lazy even if 
I have to work to get the privilege." To his friend Rev. R. H. 
Winf ree he writes : 

"My increasing age makes me more dependent and my soul 
cries out for you. I must stick to you and you to me until 
my call comes. Your success as a pastor is my joy, and I am 
somewhat impressed with the thought that you are to live and 
die in Chesterfield, but God must settle that." 

It was at this time that his book "John Jasper" made its 
appearance before the public. Its reception in many cases was 
enthusiastic. The Washington Post in a lengthy editorial 
upon it said: 

"It has remained for the kindly hand of Dr. Hatcher, Vir- 
ginia's veteran Baptist divine, to present to posterity a fragment 



JOHN JASPER 557 

of one of the purest specimens of genius that ever came out of 
the institution of slavery." 

The book preserves a chapter out of southern life that is 
rapidly passing away. Jasper was a negro preacher of Rich- 
mond, Va., was not only the author of the sermon "De Sun do 
move" but the ministerial sensation of the city, a man of 
remarkable personality and above all a preacher of overmaster- 
ing eloquence. Dr. Hatcher tells in the beginning of the book 
how he came to "be mixed up with Jasper": 

"The writer of this book heard that there was a marvel of a 
man 'over in Africa', — a not too savory portion of Richmond 
Virginia — and one Sunday afternoon in company with a Scotch- 
Irishman, who was a scholar and critic with a strong leaning 
towards ridicule, he went to hear him preach. Shades of our 
Anglo-Saxon fathers ! Did mortal lips ever gush with such 
torrents of horrible English! Hardly a word came out clothed 
and in its right mind. And gestures! He circled around the 
pulpit with his ankle in his hand, and laughed and sang and 
shouted and acted about a dozen characters within the space 
of three minutes. 

"Meanwhile, in spite of these things, he was pouring out a 
gospel sermon, red-hot, full of love, full of invective, full of 
tenderness, full of bitterness, full of tears, full of every passion 
that ever flamed in the human breast. 

"He was a theatre in himself with the stage crowded with 
actors. He was a battle field; — himself the general, the staff, 
the officers, the common soldiery, the thundering artillery and 
the rattling musketry. He was the preacher; likewise the 
church and the choir and the deacons and the congregation." 

He then tells how he went again to hear him and "kept going, 
off and on for about twenty years." 

"When this man died" he writes "it was as the fall of a tower. 
It was a crash, heard and felt farther than was the collapse 
of the famous tower of Venice." 

Another such character as Jasper will hardly ever appear 
again. This book however has embalmed the spirit and elo- 



558 JOHN JASPER 

quence of this African prodigy for future generations to enjoy. 
The New York Times in an article, of more than a column in 
length, said that Joel Chandler Harris and Thomas Nelson 
Page had made the old plantation darkey, with his dialect 
and quaint humor, a familiar figure and that their writings 
were destined to immortality, but that John Jasper was more 
than a plantation darkey with his fiddle or his hoe; he was a 
preacher of transcendent eloquence and a personality that 
inspired wonder and for such a character, — with his pulpit 
dialect, — to be enshrined in literature was an event of sur- 
passing interest, 

"In Dr. Hatcher's sketch of John Jasper" says the Times 
one has a glimpse of an actual character than which there are 
few more deliciously humorous, more naively primitive, more 
original in the pages of fiction. Jasper was one of the most 
unique preachers — black or white — who ever filled a pulpit 
or swayed with his eloquence, acrobatic quite as often as vocal, 
the throngs that came to hear him." 

"As one reads the book" says the Central Baptist "he can 
hardly refrain from the feeling that the author is inspired." 

But let us open the book and note some of its features. Near 
the beginning it tells of Jasper's remarkable conversion and 
call to the ministry. "I was seekin' God six long weeks" says 
Jasper — "jes" 'cause I was sich a fool I couldn't see de way". 
The author then relates how Jasper, who was a "stemmer" in 
Mr. Samuel Hargrove's tobacco factory, was converted one 
morning while at work in the factory. "Fore I kno'd it de light 
broke; I was light as a feather; my feet was on de mount'n; 
salvation rol'd like a flood thru my soul an' I felt as if I could 
'nock off de fact'ry roof wid my shouts." 

But Jasper knew that he must create no disturbance in the 
factory and so he simply slipped up to one or two of the other 
darkies and whispered, "Hallelujah, my soul is redeemed". 
"But jes den" says Jasper "de holin back straps of Jasper's 
breachin broke and what I thought would be a whisper was 



JOHN JASPER 559 

loud enuf to be hearn clean 'cross Jeems River to Manchester." 
The result was that the overseer in the factory hearing the 
uproar in the room entered in indignant rage and in a very 
short while Jasper was ordered to report to Mr. Hargrove's 
office. He was a warm hearted christian man and soon John 
came in and was asked concerning "the noise in the stemming 
room." Jasper thus tells of his visit that day to Mr. Har- 
grove's office: He said to his employer: 

" 'Mars Sam ever sence de fourth of July I ben cryin' after 
de Lord, six long weeks, an' jes' now out dar at de table God 
tuk my sins away an' set my feet on a rock. I didn't mean to 
make no noise, Mars Sam. but 'fore I know'd it de fires broke 
out in my soul an' I jes' let go one shout to de glory of my 
Savior. 

"Mars Sam was settin' wid his eyes a little down to de no', 
an' wid a pritty quiv'r in his voice he say very slo'; — 'John, 
Ib'leve dat way myself. I luv de Savior dat you have jes' foun' 
an' I wan' to tell you dat I do'n complain 'cause you made de 
noise jes' now as you did,' 

"Den Mars Sam did er thing dat nearly made me drop to de 
no'. He git out of his chair an' walk over to me an' giv' me 
his han' an' he say: 'John I wish you mighty well. Your 
Savior is mine an' we are bruthers in de Lord.' When he say 
dat, I turn 'roun an' put my arm agin de wall an' held me mouf 
to keep from shoutin'. Mars Sam will nev'r kno de good he dun 
me. 

"Arter awhile he say: 'John, did you tell eny of 'em dar 
'bout your conversion?' and I say: 'Yes, Mars Sam, I tell 'em 
fore I kno'd it, an' I feel like tellin' eberybody in de worP 
bout it.' 

"Den he say: 'John, you may tell it. Go back in dar an' 
go up an' down de tables, an' tell all of 'em. An' den if you 
wan' to go up stairs an' tell de hogshead men an' de drivers an' 
eberybody what de Lord has dun for you." 

"By dis time Mars Sam's face was rainin' tears an' he say: 
'John you needn' work no mo' today. I giv you holiday. Aft'r 
you git thru tellin' it here at de fact'ry go up to de house an' 
tell your folks; go roun' to your neighbors an' tell dem; go 
enywhere you wan' to an' tell de good news. It'll do you good, 
do dem good an' help to honor your Lord an' Savior." 



560 JOHN JASPER 

"Oh, dat happy day! Can I ever forgit it? Dat was my 
conversion mornin' 1 an' dat day de Lord sent me out wid de 
good news of de kingdom. For mo' den forty years I've ben 
tellin' de story. My step is gittin' ruther slo', my voice breaks 
down an' sometimes I am awful tired, but still I'm tellin' it. 
My lips shall proclaim de dyin' luv of de Lam' wid my las' 
expirin breath. 

"Ah, my dear ol' marster. He sleeps out yonder in de ol' 
cemetery an' in dis worl' I shall see his face no mo' but I don't 
forgit him. He give me a holiday an' sent me out to tell my 
friends what gret things God had dun for my soul. Oft'n as 
I preach I feel dat I'm doin' what my ol' marster tol' me to do." 

One of the chapters in the book is entitled "Jasper's Star 
Witness". Her name was Virginia Adams one of his members, 
who had many interesting things to tell about her old pastor. 
She said: 

' "No, Brer Jasper wuz no money-grabber. When de church 
wuz weak an' cudn't raze much money, he never sot no salary. 
Yer cudn't git him ter do it. He tell 'em not ter trubble 'em- 
selves but jes' giv him wat dey chuze ter put in de baskit and 
he nevur made no complaint. Wen de church got richer dey 
crowd him hard ter kno' how much he wantid and he at las' 
tell 'em dat he wud take $62.50 a month and dat he didn't 
want no more dan dat. Wen de gret crowds got ter kummin 
and de white folks too, and de money po'ed in so fas' de bruth- ' 
erin, farly quarl'd wid him ter git his sal'ry raz'd but he say 
'No. I git nuff now, and I want no more. I'm not here to gouge 
my people out of es much money es I kin.' He say he got nuff 
money to pay his taxes and buy wat he needed and if dey got 
more dan dey wantid let 'em take it and help de Lord's 
pore." 

One of his most eloquent outbursts was his sermon on 
Heaven. The sermon did not have Heaven as its theme; it 
was a funeral discourse on William Ellyson and Mary Barnes. 
He first informed the congregation that "Wilyum Ellersin" 
did not live right and that he was not going to lie about it. 
"Ef you wants folks who live wrong ter be preached and sung 
to glory w'en dey die" said he "don' bring 'em to Jasper." 



JOHN JASPER 561 

"But my bruthrin" he said in happy tone "Mary Barnes 
wus diffrunt." 

Thus Jasper began with the departed sister and, as he pro- 
ceeded, his heart took fire and he carried his hearers up to 
Heaven and began a circuit of the celestial city to look upon 
its beauties. 

"Fust of all I'd go down an see de river of life. I lov's to 
go down to de ole muddy Jeemes — mighty red an' muddy, but 
it goes 'long so gran' an' quiet, like 'twas 'tendin' to business — ■ 
but dat ain't nothin' to de river which flows by de throne. 
I longs fer its crystal waves, an' de trees on de banks an' de 
all-mann'rs of fruits. Dis old head of mine oft'n gits hot 
with fever, aches all night an' rolls on de piller, an' I has many 
times desired to cool it in that blessed stream as it kisses de 
banks of dat upper Canaan. Blessed be de Lord. De thought 
of seein' dat river, drinkin' its water an' restin' und'r dose trees — 
"Then suddenly" says Dr. Hatcher "Jasper began to intone 
a chorus in a most affecting way no part of which I can recall 
except the last line; "Oh what mus' it be to be thar." 

Jasper then starts out to view the city's streets and mansions 
and soon to his overmastering delight he discovers his own 
mansion. He next "moved off to see the angelic host" on the 
"white plains of the heavenly Canaan." 

The chapter thus continues: 

" 'An' now frenz' he said still panting and seeking to be calm 
'ef yer'll 'scuse me, I'll take er trip to de throne an' see de King 
in 'is roya'l garmints'. It was an event to study him at this 
point. His earnestness and reverence passed all speech and 
grew as he went. The light from the throne dazzled him from 
afar. There was the great white throne — there the elders 
bowing in adoring wonder — the archangels waiting in silence 
for the commands of the King — there, in hosts innumerable, 
were the ransomed. In point of vivid description it surpassed 
all I had heard or read. By this time the old negro orator 
seemed glorified. 

"Earth could hardly hold him. He sprang about the plat- 
form with a boy's alertness; he was unconsciously waving his 
handkerchief as if greeting a conqueror; his face was streaming 



562 JOHN JASPER 

with tears; he was bowing before the Redeemer; he was clapping 
his hands, laughing, shouting and wiping the blinding tears 
out of his eyes. It was a moment of transport and unmatched 
wonder to every one and I felt as if it could never cease when 
suddenly in a new note he broke into his chorus, ending with 
the soul melting words; 'Oh, what mus' it be to be thar." 

Finally he visits the ransomed 'of de Lord' and walks up 
the line speaking to the different ones among the glorified. 
The account thus continues: 

"Thus he went on greeting patriarchs, prophets, apostles 
martyrs, his brethren and loved ones gone before, until sud- 
denly he sprang back and raised a shout that fairly shook the 

roof: 'Here she is! I know'd sh'd git here! why 

Mary Barnes, got home did yer?' 

"A great handshake he gave her and for a moment it looked 
as if the newly glorified Mary Barnes was the center of Jasper's 
thoughts; but, as if by magic, things again changed and he was, 
singing at the top of his voice the chorus which died away, 
amid the shrieks and shouts of his crowd, with his plaintive 
note, 'Oh what mus' it be to be thar!' " 

The book closes with these words, "Valiant heroic old man. 
He stood in his place and was not afraid." 

Concerning the death of Jasper, Dr. Hatcher thus writes in 
the Argus: 

"The death of Jasper shook Richomond. . . It was 
bruited about in advance that he was out of kelter. . . . 
When he could no longer mount his pulpit and sound the gospel 
trumpet, his light went out. . . When he emerged neat 
and trim on Sunday. . . he was happy as a school boy 
on vacation morning as he came to meet his people! 

"The cracking of his trumpet — that trumpet which Mars' 
Sam Hargrove put in his hands on a far-away July morning 
in the old tobacco factory, and which he had blown with 
intoxicating joy for a half-century, broke his spirit and life 
could hold him little longer." 

The publisher says that the book at this late day still main- 
tains its steady sale. It seems to touch certain chords common 






JOHN JASPER 563 

to all classes and professions, by giving the reader what the 
author had promised himself to give, — "a dash of the genuine 
Jasper". He flashes light upon the unique personality so that 
the reader can see him as he was? One of the chapters is 
entitled " Jasper glimpsed under various lights" and when 
the author gets through with this African wonder there is 
little in his make-up that has not been unveiled before the 
reader. 

Let it be remembered that the chapters of the book were 
dashed off at odd hours, in various places and in the midst 
of a ceaseless whirl of travel and work, and while the volume 
is a high tribute to the genius of Jasper, it also reflects one of 
the traits of the author, and that was his ability to discover a 
great soul, even when housed in a black body. Jasper's sermon 
on "De Sun do move" gave him world-wide notoriety and 
yet it thereby made him the butt of many a jest. Dr. Hatcher 
said that that sermon exhibited him at his weakest point. 
But underneath Jasper's eccentricities and oddities Dr. Hatcher 
saw a jewel of purest ray and he picked it up, rubbed off the 
dirt and held it for the world's gaze and verily there are those 
who say that the light will never go out. 

If I were asked to name one of the deepest roots in Dr. 
Hatcher's character, — the root that went the furthest down 
and out of which came the richest fruitage I would be tempted 
to say it was his ability to see what was in men, — especially 
the good and beautiful that was in them — and to bring it to 
light. 

He said one day of a certain prominent Baptist minister 
who was usually a man of courtly bearing but carried within 
him a bundle of irascible possibilities, "Dr. is a gen- 
tleman up to a certain temperature." He understood the 
Doctor well; he had many pleasant dealings with him but he 
always kept one eye on the thermometer. 



CHAPTER XL 
1908—1909 

WITH THE ACADEMY BOYS. THE ACADEMY AND THE COMMUNITY. 

CHARACTER TRAINING. " GRACE-STREET " ANNIVERSARY. 

REMINISICENCES. MANIFOLD TRIPS AND LABORS. 

AH FONG'S GRADUATION. MONUMENTS. A 

PERSONAL SERMON. PERSONAL 

CHARACTERISTICS . 

If we would obtain a full sized picture of him we must catch 
sight of him in his dealings with the Academy boys. Some 
of his finer traits were exhibited in his contact with them. When 
he came to Careby from his meetings and other campaigns of 
heavy labor he came not to seek the rest and quiet in the 
bosom of his home, but rather to find himself attacked by 
cares and problems innumerable, but he found himself also 
surrounded by brigades of boys and he was then in his hap- 
piest mood. His keen eye saw what was in them and oft times 
he would answer a boy with a remark that would stick in his 
memory and burn like fire in his soul. Those eager, restless 
ambitious young fellows surging around him, as he came upon 
the campus, enthusiastically applauding him — as they always 
did whenever he came in to the Academy chapel, — knocking, at 
his Careby Hall door at all hours of the day, and often of the 
night, looking or speaking their appreciation of his kindness, 
or bombarding him with their questions, and drinking in his 
counsels; — that was the fountain from which he drew rich 
draughts of delight. 

He was never too busy to talk with a boy. His wife says 
that one day he found himself crowded with work in his study 

564 



WELCOMING A BOY 565 

and he gave order that he must not be interrupted for anything. 
People of all ages and conditions were visitors at Careby. 
Teachers, or neighbors, or persons from a distance would, 
upon hearing that Dr. Hatcher had returned, for some reason 
"want to see Dr. Hatcher". But on the day in question the 
edict went forth — "No interruption," and so during the hours 
of the morning his request was scrupulously observed. In the 
course of the day, however, a little fellow — one of the boys 
of the neighborhood — in some way passed through the outer 
sentinels, entered the front door and pounded on Dr. Hatcher's 
door. As no one else replied, Dr. Hatcher opened the door 
and his wife heard him call, "Hello, Guy; Come right in". 
His wife said that from the greeting given the boy one would 
have almost imagined he was greeting some distinguished 
visitor, and after his serious insistence regarding interruptions 
that day she was highly amused at the royal welcome he gave 
the boy. He said that when he was a mountain boy scarcely 
anybody in his community ever thought a boy worthy of any 
consideration, and when on rare occasions some one took 
special notice of him it was an epoch in his life. No reward for 
his kindness was so sweet and inspiring to him as the grateful 
light in the face of a boy. 

The above occurence reminds us of an incident in the life 
of that great lover of children, Francis Xavier, the missionary: 

"Once on some field of labor where hundreds came with 
their needs, their questions and their heart hungers, he was 
worn almost to utter exhaustion by days and nights of 
serving. At last he said to his attendant, 'I must sleep! I must 
sleep! If I do not I shall die. If any one comes — whoever 
comes — waken me not. I must sleep! He then retired into 
his tent, and his faithful servant began his watch. It was not 
long, however, till a pallid face appeared at the top. Xavier 
beckoned eagerly to the watcher and said in a solemn tone, 
T made a mistake. If a little child comes, waken me.' " 

"The first time I ever saw Dr. Hatcher", says Rev. Dr. 
C. H. Dodd, "he was in an attitude which exactly and last- 
ingly depicted the man I afterwards found him to be. He was 



566 NEVER TOO BUSY FOR A BOY 

standing in the street, waiting for a car, and some little children 
who knew him, a little boy and girl, had crept up under his 
arms and were embracing him with intense affection. Big 
and friendly he towered there over those little children, in 
his true character — more as the shepherd than the bishop of 
their souls. He pictured his own secret in that fatherly posture 
as he let the little children come to him. And he was following 
Christ, too." 

Rev. F. H. Jones says that when Dr. Hatcher was laboring 
for Richmond college and had his office at the College that he 
was a student in the institution and that one day, feeling a 
little worried as to his plans for the future, he said: "I be- 
lieve I will go down and talk with Dr. Hatcher." 

"I knocked at his door" said Mr. Jones "and I can hear his 
voice now as he shouted from within: 'Come in'. I opened the 
door, but saw his table piled with papers and so I said: 'No, 
doctor, you are busy, I will come in some other time.' 

" 'Come right in, I'm never too busy to talk to a boy. Come 
here and tell me about yourself,' he said. 

"I told him what I would like to accomplish at College, but 
said that I did not know whether I could or not, and he promptly 
and sympathetically said: 'Yes, you can and you can do even 
a great deal more' and by his kindly talk he put a new hope in 
my heart." 

He sought to develope in the Fork Union community a spirit 
of helpfulness towards the Academy students. The following 
letter is a sample of many such letters written by him. It 
shows into what details his crowded mind would go in his 
sympathy for the needy boys: 

"Fork Union Oct 26, 1908. 
"My Dear Bro,: — "I thought I had written you again; 
we are very much set on having you come. If you and your 
father can raise forty-five ($45) I think that, if you will come 
and learn to press the uniforms for the boys at odd hours, you 
can make enough to get along. It is easy to learn and we have 
a friend here that can teach you. It is thoroughly respectable 
at our school for boys to work. They milk cows, cut wood, 
feed horses, act as barbers or do anything else they can to get 



THE ACADEMY AND THE NEEDY BOYS 567 

money to help them along. The Lord helps those who try to 
help themselves. If you come you had better come at once. 
You may have a hard scratch at first but do not mind that. If 
you wait you may lose the job of which I have spoken. I 
suggest that you write to my daughter Miss Elizabeth at this 
place and let us know at once what you intend to do. Come 
trusting in God. Bring a letter of commendation from your 
pastor or your church or both. 

"Your sincere friend, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

The regnant principle of the Academy was to help the fellow 
at the bottom. He had nearly all of the families in or around 
Fork Union taking boys into their homes, giving them little 
chores to do and also giving them their board — in whole or in 
part — in return. 

"Fork Union" said he "has a way of finding gifted and asp- 
iring boys and helping them to get their education, — those of 
them at least which need help. This constitutes one feature 
of the school in which my heart is most deeply interested. It 
has come to pass that Fork Union is known to be a place where 
bright and clever boys love to come because it is known that 
we try to make it easier for those who have nothing and nobody 
to help them in starting." 

He was ever seeking to instill into the community the idea 
that the Academy was not there as a gold mine for Fork 
Union but rather as an opportunity for Fork Union to help 
struggling boys. Sometimes he would create positions in the 
Academy for the boys — which would mean no income, or 
very little, for the Academy, but simply an opportunity for 
the youth to help "work his way through." 

Be it said for the Fork Union people that they responded to 
his appeals with gratifying and, in some cases, with beautiful 
generosity. He writes to a Virginia pastor in whose church 
was a boy who had gotten hold of his heart: 

"My Dear Bro, — Unless I am mistaken I saw that boy 
and had some talk with him at . There is nothing 



568 WORKING FOR BOYS 

more sacred on earth than a young man's desire to qualify 
and equip himself for high usefulness in this world." 

He next offered to make large reduction for tuition for the 
boy and then adds: 

"May I ask also if the family during the session, — by his 
father giving some, and his brother some and his sisters some 

and, F possibly a little; and the mother stinting the 

family a little on butter and fowls and fruits and vegetables, 
turning the same into money, — could not help some in raising 
the $50,00. 

"I charge you as this boy's pastor to take this work up and 
see it through to a righteous conclusion. What is done ought 
to be done now. See the family, fight it to a finish and report 
results at once. I cannot hold the place for work but a few 
days, but I will hold it while you work on the case, and work 
day and night until the thing is done. It is worth doing and it 
will be to your honor and to the glory of God to do it. And 
if you do not do it, I will blame you and think you are not as 
good a pastor as you ought to be. You know how I love you 
and how I trust you and rejoice with you in your ministerial 
work." 

"Add up in dollars and cents" says Dr. Landrum "the total 
of his direct and indirect contributions to education, and many 
a philanthropic millionaire will have to look to his laurels. 
Estimate the nature and value of the services he has rendered 
vicariously to his God and country, and scholars and states- 
men may well accord him fellowship in the temple of fame. So 
long as it is incumbent on some enterprising detective of 
worthfulness in citizenship to "write up" "who's who" in 
America, he will be derelict in duty if he leaves out the name 
of William E. Hatcher." 

He loved to try his hand on the incorrigibles, — the boys 
whom others had despaired of. Often have I seen him in his 
office at Careby Hall take in hand a boy who had, from dis- 
couragement, or cowardice, decided to quit school, — a boy 
who had become refractory and reckless, — and by his direct, 
pungent talk to the boy, — talk that was frequently interspersed 
with gleams of humor — seek to shake and jostle him into a new 



THE BOY'S COMPANION 569 

spirit and a high ambition. He would point out to the boy 
the two roads before him and challenge him to make his choice. 
A favorite sentence with him was, "We will try to make a man 
of him" and I have often heard him say to a boy, "Stand your 
ground and we will make a man of you". 

He was interested in all the pursuits and games of the stu- 
dents. He wanted them to tell him all about themselves. 
It was entertaining to hear him when he and one or more boys 
were engaged in a free and easy conversation. The boys would 
do most of the talking, — mostly in reply to his questions and 
it was striking how his questions and his attitude towards 
them would put them on their mettle. He was a boy among 
boys. Dr. Perryman of Norfolk, in whose home Dr. Hatcher 
was entertained during a meeting of the General Association, 
said that his boy — about ten or twelve years of age — and Dr. 
Hatcher were walking along the street one morning in front 
of their house when he remarked to his wife, "Just look yonder 
at those two boys talking to each other; and look at George, 
he is talking to Dr. Hatcher as if Dr. Hatcher was nothing more 
than a boy, like himself." 

He loved to be on the athletic field at Fork Union when 
base ball and foot ball games were played and none of the 
spectators were more enthusiastically interested than he. He 
preached the 225th anniversary sermon for the First Baptist 
Church in Charleston, S. C, and afterwards said, "I write 
that Sunday as among the high days of my ministerial life." 
He attended the General Association in November and Dr. 
Masters draws the following picture of him in a group of 
preachers one night during the meetings: 

"In the pastor's study on Saturday night, after he had 
rendered brilliant service in introducing the new pastors, 
Dr. Hatcher chatted easily with several who gathered about 
him about a sermon which he is making. It is to be on Barn- 
abas, the son of consolation, the man who saw good in people 
and brought it out. He developed a brief sketch of Barnabas 
as it was brought out in his recorded relations with others and 



570 ADDRESS AT "GRACE STREET" 

it fairly sparkled with pith and point. Dr. Hatcher ought to 
send that sermon to the Herald." 

It is interesting to know that the last sermon he ever 
preached — a few days before his end — was on "Barnabas". 

"Fork Union, Oct. 29, 1908. 
"My Dear E, — I am a little frazzled out by a few dozen 
bothers of domestic, Academic and other sorts. I am writing 
to you principally because I do not feel like it. But I had a 
royal week with Shipman at Rice's Depot last week [in meetings]. 
. . . I am again on the S. S. Lessons for next year. They 
bother me but I get tons of good out of them." 

"Yours, Wm. E. H." 

From Upperville he writes: 

"Careby is the only place that has a suggestion of home to me 
and I love it very much. But the Academy absorbs almost 
every moment when I go there. I hope I can throw more of the 
burden on others." 

He had a unique experience at his old Grace Street church 
in November. The church celebrated its seventy fifth An- 
niversary and had asked him to speak at that service on his 
"Recollections" of his pastorate. It was a memorable occasion. 
The General Association had just closed its sessions and many 
of its delegates lingered until the Grace Street Anniversary. 
His wife writes: "it was probably the greatest occasion of his 
life." 

To Orie and Edith she writes : 

"Oh such a meeting we had with every seat taken — 1500 
people at least. 

"Your father was at his best except in voice. He had been 
coughing all day but did not cough any while speaking. Of 
course he swayed his audience with tears and laughter. . . . 
He spoke for an hour and the audience came enmasse to shake 
hands afterwards. It must have been an ovation very pleasing 
to his heart." 



ADDRESS AT "GRACE STREET" 571 

The striking feature of the service is yet to be mentioned. 
As he began to gather up his "recollections" of his pastorate 
at once the factional troubles that had harassed his pastor- 
ate for ten years loomed up in the list of his "recollections." 
He went to the gentleman who had been the leader of the fac- 
tion and said "Brother X they have asked me to give 

my recollections of my pastorate at the Grace Street Anniver- 
sary and to do this I must narrate some disagreeable things 
about you; I tell you now so that you can be there." 

The night with its crowd arrived and there on the pulpit 
sat this brother. Dr. Hatcher moved forward with his address 
taking up the story of his twenty-six years pastorate at the 
beginning and following it to the end. As a part of the story 
he described the opposition that met him near the beginning 
and followed him for many years and then he brought his 
narrative to a climax by saying : 

"Those were pregnant and stressful days in my existence. 
The plowshare was in my soul for a decade and life hung 
trembling on the verge of a tragedy. There were men who gave 
me trouble and there sits near me now the chieftain of that 
wasting strife. I could not give my recollections without 
saying to you before him and before this great multitude that 
he was to me a trial long drawn out and yet, as I weigh the past, 
I do not believe that I ever lost my respect for him, though I 
may have mislaid it more than once and I am sure I did not 
lose absolutely my faith in his christian character though it 
shook many a time, and times upon times I told the Lord that 
if he did not prop it up it would inevitably break into hopeless 
ruin. After the end came I told him I had gone through my 
heart, searching every corner and crevice, and that I found 
nothing that would interfere with our fullest fellowship and our 
freest cooperation in all good works, and I can say to him today, 
after the years have lapsed away, that I cherish for him gen- 
uinely brotherly love and account him among that circle of 
friends whom I can trust without a misgiving. I hold up my 
right hand before him declaring that in its grasp there is friend- 
ship and brotherhood untainted by one unhappy memory." 

As he said this the gentleman "sprang to his feet, walked 
forward and exchanged with the speaker a cordial hand grasp. 



572 THE WISE COUNSELOR 

It was an episode that will constitute a part of the permanent 
history of that church." It was a dramatic scene. He was 
publicly digging up old clashes and strifes and under careless 
handling he might have precipitated a disturbance there upon 
the platform. They grasped each other's hands that night 
in mutual esteem and honor which continued unabated to the 
end of their lives. 

When asked whether Dr. D would be a good man 

for a certain Louisville church to call he said, "He is good enough 
for Louisville and Louisville is good enough for him, but I am 
not sure that they are good enough for each other." In refer- 
ring to Dr. Hatcher a prominent minister of Richmond wrote 
on Dec, 4th, "I know of no one to whom I can go whose coun- 
sel would have so much weight with me in rendering an impor- 
tant decision." And here before me is a letter from Dr. A. B. 
Rudd saying "Dr. Hatcher helped me to decide a great life 
question". In the midst of his goings he had his lights and 
shadows. He writes from Fork Union, "My health is not as good 
as usual. In fact I have almost concluded that it is not likely 
that it will be so good as it has been. I am nervous and full 
of pains in one way and another." 

But with this plaintive note comes another in brighter tone, 
"My visit to Shenandoah is a new and lustrous page in my life 
and I shall read it over many a time in this world and, yet more 
times, I hope, in the other world." 

The view we get of him shows him busy with his next book, — 
a book of his reminiscences — at our Baltimore home, while he 
is engaged in revival meetings at the Eutaw Place Church. 

He writes: 

"Eldridge is helping me masterfully on my second book — 
that which meddles with my recollections. As a fact I rather 
shudder at the thought of embalming my reminiscences. 
They have a nice look and a fair light for me, but to be putting 
them in a book and hawking them on to the book-stalls and 
making a thing of commerce with them inclines me to take to 
the tall timbers. 



REMINISCENCES 573 

"But I am committed to Revell and believe that we already 
have about enough material to make a good sized book, — 
such as it will be. I leave here Monday." 

He went next to Franklin, Indiana, for meetings but not 
until he had paid a visit to Fork Union. He writes: 

"I had a careworn time at Careby. The Academy throws 
its bitter waters in my face. But I get good out of it. New 
students come in rather thick and I pick up many crumbs of 
comfort as I march on. Sweet memories of your home are 
still weighing me down with burdens of joy." 

A few weeks later he writes me again : 

" Academy affairs are not running well. The only successful 
work that they seem to carry on is the harrowing up of my old 
soul with constant anxieties. . . . But you know that I 
never feel well, nor am quite happy, if things go too well with 
me. Things have to get crossed in order to make me go 
straight." 

At Franklin the "Reminiscences" still weighed upon his 
mind. He writes to his daughter Orie: 

"I feel rather ashamed of myself that my memory has 
waked up and assumed such haughty airs. I fear that what 
little productive power I may have, and also my energetic 
grasp on the future, may go to smash in the almost gleeful 
eagerness with which my memory is spurting up and down 
the past and lugging in all sorts of reminiscences. 

"I give some time every day to my book and hope that it 
will not be long before I have material enough to feed it to the 
printer." 

He wrote to another person that in "pegging away on his 
Reminiscences" he felt like "an egotistical fiend." 

From Franklin he went to Fort Wayne in the same state 
(Indiana), where, in addition to his revival meetings, he de- 
livered an address on John Jasper. 

"The ministers were so stirred up and talked so much about 
it" said Dr. Vichert "that there was a demand by the public 



574 FROM POINT TO POINT 

for the same address and he repeated it in my church on the 
afternoon of Feb. 21st when the large auditorium was filled 
and those who came were inspired and delighted as the min- 
isters had been." 

He stopped in Louisville for a lecture at the Seminary. He 
wrote me, "I selected as my theme 'The Preacher and his 
Purse' and I had it in right good shape. They ripped up the 
smaller hills about it and requested it for publication." 

He writes to his daughter Edith who was studying music 
in New York: 

"You were quite pretty and interesting as I remember you 
before we forgot each other. I admire you most of all my chil- 
dren because we resemble each other the most at least in the 
respect that we are too busy to write to each other." 

On his return to Fork Union after his long absence he found 
the usual crop of Academy bothers lined up and waiting for 
him. "We have Trustee meeting on Thursday" he writes from 
Fork Union "and we have problems of elephantine proportions 
on hand. ' ' After the meeting he writes : 

"We had a high time at our Trustee meeting* 

heard it thunder and perhaps are now looking for the light- 
ning to strike." 

His next jump was to Edgefield, S. C. where he held revival 
meetings, with his daily schedule as follows: 

"Men's Prayer Meeting at 8:30 A. M. 
Service at the Academy at 11 A. M. 
Service at 4 P. M. 
Service at night," 

A full programme was this for one who was approaching his 
75th birthday. 

The Edgefield Chronicle says "He is a grey-haired man — 
grey with the brave fight and long campaign of seventy-five 
years. As we listened to him preach on Sunday morning, we 



FROM POINT TO POINT 575 

thought of how, when he went home to heaven all the "ran- 
somed throng" would hasten to welcome him. God bless him 
and his work! And may "he stay with us to the last moment 
of his available time!" 

Blessed experiences were his in the meetings during the win- 
ter in South Carolina. The Editor of the Christian Index in 
Georgia published the following : 

"What a glorious thing it is for a man, far advanced in years, 
to be rendering such service to the glory of the Lord as Dr. 
William E. Hatcher is doing. Every now and then we see in 
the papers accounts of gracious and blessed meetings in which 
he is assisting pastors. He is verily bringing forth fruit in his 
old age, and fruit of the richest and finest quality. May the 
Lord spare him yet many years with his powers unimpaired 
for this kind of service." 

In May he attended the Southern Baptist Convention where 
the denominational agencies piled their burdens upon him. 
"All present remember" said Dr. Jeffries "what a power he 
was before the Louisville Convention in helping to secure the 
splendid subscription [for the Seminary] which gave impulse 
and assurance to the movement. He was then a man of 74 
years." 

Back to Fork Union he hurried and from there he went again 
to South Carolina for meetings at Bennettsville and Bates- 
ville. We restrain our pen from telling of the glories of these 
meetings and hurry with him back to Virginia to an all-day 
meeting at "dear old Bethlehem" church in Chesterfield. 
To see him in one of his best roles we must view him at an all 
day meeting in the country. The above church was the same 
church at which he had held the wonderful meeting of many 
years ago. He preached in the morning, but it was in the 
afternoon that the unique service was held. It was a memorial 
service in memory of certain honored members who had passed 
to their heavenly reward. His letter to me tells the story: 

"My day at Bethlehem was phenomenal, incomparable 
and next to miraculous. The crowd was great and a number 



576 BETHLEHEM 

of the brethren, like Gary Winston, Bob Wood, and Jeff Brown, 
made a vast splutteration over my sermon. It showed their 
goodness, but not their capacity for criticism. 

"The Memorial Services came in the afternoon and they were 
about as unlike a funeral as a moving picture show. I began 
with old Mr. McTyre, Isaac Winston and Miss Sallie. I told 
all the humorous and comical things except the story of the 
gray mare. I mentioned a multitude of the members, gave 
'old man Lybarger [one of the members] and the oats' story 
and his conversion and closed with old Mr. Orrell and the 
Laprade boy. The feeling towards the close was electric and 
powerful and, while singing the last hymn, I invited confessions 
of faith and there were four. They are wearying me out to hold 
a meeting. How would you like to do it? 

"Already Bethel is asking for a memorial day and the rest 
of them have suddenly waked up to feel that I ought to hold 
their protracted meetings for them. Invitations come in from 
every direction. 

"I go to Christi ansburg for a dedication Sunday and I 
believe I have eight dedications to follow." 

He writes to his daughter, Orie, who is visiting in Bedford 
near his glorious old mountain "the Peaks": 

"My Dear Orie, — "If you see your cousin Johnnie be sure 
to fall in love with him and his wife and ask him if he has'nt 
got a grandson that would make a first class man. If he thinks 
that he has a boy of that description, he must make it the joy 
of his advancing years to educate him, and I would be glad to 
get hold of him while he is young and tender. I hear that his 
daughter has very delightful and promising children. Give 
my love to the entire Peak tribe. 

"I hope you will fatten a pound a day while you are gone 
and stay fifteen days. 

"I came from Richmond yesterday and found my work piled 
a good deal higher than nature did her job when she piled the 
peaks of Otter." 

His mail, month by month, gleamed with such bright and 
kindly messages as the following: 

From Dr. C. H. Ryland: 

"My Dear William E: — "I have come to rejoice in your 
going forth although I am not free from anxiety about the 



SPEECH TO AFOH NG 577 

strenuous way in which you are conducting your campaigns. 
The Psalmist said, 'I am a wonder to many' and you are a 
wonder to me." 

From Dr. J. M. Frost: 

"I congratulate you . . on the great and glorious record 
you have made for yourself. Very few men have stamped 
themselves more deeply, or for better purpose, on their day 
and generation than you have done." 

Judge Haralson, in a love letter to him, writes, "I wish my 
title to an eternal inheritance were as clear as yours." 

An interesting incident occured in connection with the 
graduation of his Chinese boy, Ah Fong, at the Commencement 
exercises at Richmond College in June. He made a public 
address to this Chinese lad who thus describes the event: 

"When I took my B. A. degree Dr. Hatcher presented me 
with a gold ring which I value it above all other things be- 
cause in it was his love to me. In presenting the ring he made a 
speech. I do not remember the wording of that speech but 
the contents of it I still remember. He told how he met me, 
why he took me into his home. Since I have become a member 
of his family he had no occasion to complain against me. There 
was not one discord between us, he said. He painted my be- 
havior so good that it makes me blush to think of it even now. 
He told my record at the schools. How an untutored lad I was 
when I first entered his home — took away some honor from 
Fork Union Academy. And graduated there and now takes 
away an honor from Richmond College. That he present the 
ring to me because of his warm love for me. 

"On several occasions he asked me what I would do when I 
finished my education in America. Then he would say; 'I don't 
know what you ought to do, only the Lord knows. Remember 
one thing; you ought always to be useful to the world.' I re- 
member very distinctly one Saturday afternoon as I was driv- 
ing him to Bremo Station to catch the up-train to Lynchburg. 
It was in the Summer of 1909 after I had taken my B. A. at 
Richmond College. I had not decided where to go the next 
school term. He said to me, 'Ah Fong what do you want to 
make of yourself?' I mentioned several things what I would 



578 HIS HORROR OF BEING FORGOTTEN 

like to be; among them were mining, medicine and law. He 
did not approve for me to take up mining. His reason was 
that people who study that course simply wish to make money. 
They have no thought for the welfare of the world. 'I want 
to knock that out of your head' he said. If he had used his 
time to make money he would be a very rich man. To make 
money is very easy; but to train men for one's country is very 
hard. 'Now' he said 'many people think and a large number 
of people have asked me if I were to make a preacher out of 
you. I told them that I am making a man of you, as to what 
you will do I leave it to the Lord." 

Later on Ah Fong went to New York to study in Columbia 
College. He says: 

"When I went to New York, Dr. Hatcher did not know any- 
thing about it at that time. I only wrote him a letter that I 
was going to New York to work my way through Columbia. 
When he received my letter he at once wrote me a long and 
kind letter. It was full of advice and said that he was sorry 
that he could not support me through the University; but that 
he had great hope for me that I would succeed in my effort. 
He would be very lonesome when he was at Fork Union with- 
out me, but no matter where I would be there would be a 
place for me in his heart and still claimed me as a member of 
his family." 

Some time before this he wrote an article which seems never 
to have been published. The manuscript bears no intimation 
of the purpose for which it was written. The subject is, "The 
Monumental Idea" and begins as follows: 

"The dread of oblivion is universal. The human soul shrinks 
appalled from the possibility of being forgotten. In some way 
we carry the thought that we are a part of the universal whole 
and that it would be fatal to lose our place." 

He declared once in a sermon that the idea of annihilation 
was a more horrible doctrine to him than that of everlasting 
punishment. He had in him, very strong, the desire to be 
remembered. In the above treatment of the "the monumental 
idea" he thus continues: 



"THE MONUMENTAL IDEA" 579 

"Only the stranded and lost can face the terrors of oblivion. 

"To many of those who take a larger view of life and under- 
stand its relationships there comes another thought. . . There 
is the desire that the monument, while standing guard over the 
dust of the dead, shall bear a message to those who come after. 

"To those of us who travel here and there, the sight of 
the cemetery, or the white slabs in the family burial place in 
the country, furnishes touching and pathetic proofs of the 
prevalence of the memorial passion. From the fragment of 
marble which tells of the little one gone, to the towering shaft, 
or the elaborate mausoleum, we catch proof of this quenchless 
longing of the human soul. 

"A monument ought to be something more than a grotesque 
effort to scare oblivion away from the graves of men. The 
monument is an appeal to matter — voiceless, unproductive and 
dead — to confer historic immortality upon those who ought 
not to be forgotten. It is asking too much of stone, marble and 
brass. They cannot speak, nor travel, nor sing, nor sound the 
praises of the dead. They can only stand still, bearing their 
inscriptions and enduring the pelting of the storm and the 
eankerous rust of the ages. While history may be made to stand 
as a sentinel over the graves of the great, yet the historian 
and prophet must meet at every monument, the one telling 
of what has been and the other telling of things yet to be. 

"There is something transcendently noble in the thought 
that one can impart a monumental value to the part that he 
plays in this life, so that he will be remembered, not so much 
by what he did as by what his constructive life caused to be 
done after he has passed within the veil. 

"In one respect every man must be his own monument 
builder. He must either enrich his life with achievements so 
brilliant and imperishable that they will be his sufficient mem- 
orial, or he must confer benefactions which will cause others 
to commemorate his virtues." 

In looking over his papers I found the following document. 
It was written a few days before his 75th birthday and ap- 
parently was mentioned to no one and laid aside. It is prob- 
able that the following words about himself were written as he 
sat in his study musing upon the near approach of his An- 
niversary ; 



580 A PERSONAL SERMON 

"A Personal Sermon 11 

"The days of our years are three-score years and ten; and if 
by reason of strength they be four-score years yet is their 
strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly 
away. 

"Moses stands as the unchallenged author of the 90th Psalm. 
. . . Seventy years he puts as the last mile-stone of a 
long life; beyond that continued life is exceptional, burdensome 
and speeding swiftly to its close. It is always dangerous for 
men to speak or write concerning themselves. Truly it ought 
to be that by this time I can speak without passion or prejudice 
about myself. I am too far from the asperities and strifes 
of earth to have my deliverances affected with the warrior's 
spirit and too grateful for the multiplication of my days to be 
apprehensive as to what is to come. 

"With the passage of a few days I will reach my 75th an- 
niversary. This will put me upon the middle line between 
seventy and eighty — that is, if I do hold out. In the last letter 
which I received from Spurgeon he told me of the complex 
infirmities and tortures of the flesh with the comment that he 
could not hold out much longer. Truly and gratefully I can 
put on record that I have no disease within my mortal frame 
of which I am conscious and scarcely a pain or disturbance in 
any function of my bodily system and yet I am distinctly 
aware of the gradual relaxation of my powers. My grasp 
lacks its olden vigor and my step takes on an increasing heavi- 
ness. Within the circle of my family, and yet more perhaps 
outside of it, there has been a strong desire that my seventy- 
fifth birthday should in some way have some celebration. 
With no distinct wish to have my way about it I have felt a 
strong aversion to any demonstration in my honor at the half- 
way house between seventy and eighty. It falls in better with 
my sense of the fitness of things to compare my own experiences 
with the philosophical utterances of Moses. By his measure 
of life I desire to lay my own frail life down and see how the two 
look in the light of each other. 

"No fantastic deceptions as to my unfailing youth have 
possessed me. I have marked the approach of age with serious- 
ness and gratitude and have never for a moment sought to 
deceive myself about it. The catchy phrases about being 
"only as old as we feel ourselves to be" and of being "as good 
at seventy as at thirty-five" never fit my lips. Indeed I have 



PHYSICAL TRAITS 581 

thought that age was too respectable and too honorable to be 
disowned or disguised. 

"Finis-so far—" 

He here speaks of the gradual relaxation of his powers. His 
words were true as regarded his bodily powers, but his mental 
forces seemed as alert and vigorous as ever and until the very 
end they maintained their usual high standard. Walking 
became an increasing burden with him. He avoided steep 
climbs and and in cities would always take the street car, if 
only to save himself the walk of a few squares. His weight 
at this time was considerable and in view of the load of avoir- 
dupois that he had to carry it is not surprising that he oft-times 
preferred for the street car, instead of his two feet, to carry it. 
And yet he did a goodly share of walking. He would frequently 
walk for exercise. There was at Careby a long front porch and 
also a concrete walk semi-circular in shape in front of Careby 
and along these he would often tramp back and forth; and 
he would never walk aimlessly. He would move as if he were 
walking for a purpose and a very important one. There would 
be — as he walked — an animation in his face, as if there were 
delightful results awaiting him at the end of his walk, — pro- 
vided however, that he would not loiter by the way. Often 
he would count his steps out loud as he walked, — "one, two, 
three, four," and so on to a hundred or more. He considered 
that he stepped a yard at a time and he knew well the distance, 
in yards, of all the walks over which he frequently tramped. 
During his sickness at our house, in Baltimore, — at a time when 
he was long shut in — he would get up out of his bed and start 
on a tramp through the house, — into the front room and back 
through the hall into the rear room and then down the stairway 
and through the first floor and up the stairs again and thus 
with earnest, determined steps he would make the circuit 
of the house many times as if each step he was taking involved 
the destinies of several nations of the earth. 

During his last years when he would walk rapidly his right 
hand would swing vigorously at his side while his left hand 



582 READING HIMSELF TO SLEEP 

hung in one position, and as he walked his left shoulder would 
seem to dip just a little, — as if his left leg had become slightly 
shorter than the other. 

Another fact must be mentioned. During his later life his 
hours of sleep each night were few and somewhat irregular. 
He would always read himself to sleep at night and we were 
always afraid that, with his poor eye-sight and with his custom 
of sleeping in all manner of places, he would knock over the 
lamp at the moment when he would become drowsy and seek 
to put out the light. He would often snatch a nap during the 
day in his morris chair. One night while reading in his chair he 
had dropped off to sleep with the lamp very near his hand and 
his wife said to Edith, "I'm afraid your father will in waking 
move his hand and knock over that lamp" and her words had 
hardly been spoken before he threw back his hand and over 
went the lighted lamp. It was hurled out of the window and 
the danger was averted. The wonder is that many more such 
accidents did not occur. 

He nearly always carried magazines or neswpapers with him 
in his travels in order that he might be sure of having reading 
material in the night hours. Often he would awaken far in the 
night and in order to hasten the return of his sleep he would 
light his lamp and open his magazine or book for another 
reading. In a short while he would feel the drowsy symptoms, 
out would go the lamp and he would quickly drop into slumber 
once more. 

His sneezing outbursts were often very loud and furnished 
great amusement to the grandchildren. He did not perpetrate 
such explosions in the social circle, or in religious assemblies, — 
at least he seemed to moderate the performance on such oc- 
casions; but often in the home circle, when the " coast was clear," 
and especially if the young folks were in evidence, he would let 
himself out and his sneezes could be heard hundreds of yards 
in the distance. Sometimes he would startle those in his 
presence by one of these shouting — almost screaming — sneezes 
and then with uplifted eye-brows and an amused smile on his 



LETTER TO DR. BRYAN 583 

face he would watch the company as they would recover 
from their shock and break into a laugh. 

"I remember" said a lady, "the first time my little girl heard 
him sneeze and it frightened her so that she was on the verge 
of crying". Such performances were not frequent; but they 
at least came often enough to show his ability in that direction. 
Often in his later life when he dropped upon the lounge for a 
nap he would advertize the fact by vigorous snoring which 
would continue in undulating fashion for several minutes and 
suddenly explode in a nervous gasp. 

During the Summer he attended Associations, dedicated 
churches, made all manner of addresses, directed the affairs 
of the Academy, kept his typewriter busy and did other things 
too numerous to be catalogued here. 

To his friend, Dr. E. B. Bryan, of Franklin College, who had 
recently been elected to the presidency of Colgate University, 
he writes a letter which closed as follows: 

"I could write all day but this Academy business has me by 
the throat for several days. — and so, with a tear for Franklin, 
with a shout for Colgate and with a prayer for you, with honor 
for your wife, with fatherly admiration for Helen, with pride 
over your boy and with ever so much affection for your other 
girl, with a dumb grief for "Powle" and St. Bertha and a wish 
that the kingdom of God may come and that you and I may 
stand side by side when the shouting day comes, I am as ever 
and ever will be. 

"Your lover, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

"Your father had a sort of collapse after returning from 
church" writes my mother. "He had been to Richmond to buy 
furniture for the Academy and had a hard day walking around. 
He is better now." 

He wrote me on Sept. 14th, the 'bluest' letter which I ever 
received from him. A young man who had been staying at 
Careby whom he had greatly loved for many years and who 
made a trip to Richmond had, after a long season of abstinence, 



584 SUDDEN DEPRESSION 

fallen a victim to his old enemy strong drink. There were 
other burdens, but it was the fall of the youth that depressed 
him the most. He was a companion for him during his visits 
at Careby helping him in all manner of ways. 

"His fall is a blow to me" he writes "I leaned on him for 
everything. Besides my expenses are very great and my in- 
come next to nothing. 

"But never mind. Let me just tell you my sorrows, but 
not to bother you — only to relieve me. After all it is not very 
desirable for a worthless man to live too long. Just think about 
me and pray for me. 

"Yours, 

"W. E. H." 

A low drop was that for him. But it is not unlikely that 
something occured soon thereafter to send his spirits on the 
upward climb; a boy may have appeared on the scene or some 
needy case may have drawn his thoughts into other channels 
and gradually lifted him back to his former level. 

Mr. George Schmelz writes him from Asheville, N. C, "Judge 
Haralson, who is stopping at the Victoria Inn where I am located. 

. . . says he loves you better than any other man he 
knows." 

At the Portsmouth Association in September, Dr. Hugh C. 
Smith preached the introductory sermon. At the close of his 
sermon a note, — gratefully cherished even until this day by 
Dr. Smith — was passed to him; he opened it and read as fol- 
lows: 

"Dear Hugh, — I heard your sermon with exceeding pleasure. 
It was fresh, fervent and was effectively delivered. My soul 
swelled with pride and joy as I heard you. 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

His new book of reminiscences was nearing completion. 
We spent several days together at the Jefferson Hotel in Rich- 
mond in October, working on the book. We shut ourselves 
up in a room, and the typewriter ticked away, page after page, 



REMINISCENCES 585 

as he dictated and his words came as fast as they could be put 
upon paper. One day I asked him — as I came to a pause with 
the machine and as he sat by wondering what he should write 
next — "How do you explain your gift for humor?' ' I wanted 
his reply of course for the book which he was then writing. 
He shrank, at first, from the question, but saw that I was set 
upon drawing him out and so he started off, with the tick 
of the typewriter keeping him company as he dictated the 
following paragraph: 

"A friend has asked me how I got to be humorous. The 
question hits me in a new spot and savors of the preposterous. 
There does not seem to be any humor in me; it has no place 
in my natural endowments nor my equipments so far as I can 
understand. If there is anything in me that has to do with 
humor it can hardly be inherent and at best is nothing more 
than a very limited capacity to discover the humor of outside 
situations. There is no enginery within me for manufacturing 
humor and if it is at all proper to mention humor and me the 
same day it must be because I have a scant and unlocated gift 
for discovering those conjunctions in human affairs which 
titulate the people and call forth their laughter." 

His field glass swept the literary horizon in search of a 
striking title for his new book. He shied off from such ex- 
pressions as "Reminiscences", or "Recollections of a long life" 
and the like. 

"As to the title of the book" he writes me "I am still undeter- 
mined, but my mind settles on toward something like these 
two or three. 'Happenings along the way'; 'Things seen along 
the road'; 'Incidents along the Highway'; 'Garnered as I 
came'; 'The hindsights along the Way'; 'A Basket of Frag- 
ments.' 

"Too precious even to be named were our days of hiding 
and of toil last week at the Jefferson." 

After a hurried run back to Richmond (400 miles) he returns 
to South Carolina for meetings at Saluda, where he writes to 
Orie: 



586 LOVING TRIBUTES 

"My eyes are better, — that is, one of them — for really I 
have but one that is of any service and that is sensitive and 
seems incapable of being helped by glasses." 

His failing eye sight put no visible mark upon his eyes and 
did not at all mar his countenance. In fact his wonderfully 
bright and sympathetic eyes retained their luster and depth 
to the very end. In November he wrote me concerning his 
publisher from Nashville, Tenn., where he was holding meet- 
ings at the First Baptist Church: 

"Revell and myself are fighting on the deep blue sea, but 
with no carnal weapons and with no extra blood in our eye. He 
sent me a new arrangement of chapters and I am sending him 
another recast which seems to me more natural and satis- 
factory". 

Invitations came to him from the North and West, as well 
as from the South, from pastors that he would aid them in 
meetings. He had promised to aid Dr. Vichert at Fort Wayne 
and Dr. L. A. Crandall of Minneapolis during the winter. 

• Dr. Arthur Jones of Colgate University writes him: 

"But in spite of all the names you have called me I do love 
you. Oh. the times we have had together." 

"You can never know how you blessed me when you were 
here" writes Dr. R. M. Inlow, of Nashville, whom he had aided 
in meetings in November." 

In December he held revival meetings in Washington for 
Rev. B. D. Gaw who thus writes concerning him: 

"It was a benediction indeed to have this 'father in Israel' 
in our home. How beautiful and inspiring to see this veteran 
soldier of the cross doing battle so valiantly for his king." 

His friend Mr. R. S. Barbour, sent him a handsome "traveling 
case," — saying "J feel that the Baptists of Virginia would suffer 
an irrepable loss if the time should come that your health 



FORT WAYNE 587 

was not sufficient for you to continue your valuable aid in our 



The friend of his soul Judge Haralson of Alabama writes 
hirn on Dec. 22nd: 

"If I knew how to express more love and joy and good wishes 
for you I would add it. Do you ever think of me these 
days?" 

On Christmas day he writes to me wafting "millions of good 
wishes" and adding, "They are so strong that neither snow nor 
blizzard can chill their ardor nor stay their flight." 

■My mother writes : 

"To Eldridge I would say that I think his father needs his 
presence more than he ever did. He seems fat and strong and 
does his usual work but Elizabeth and I think we can see traces 
of old age creeping on him, — very naturally we should. He 
wants children around him all the time." 

He went to aid Dr. J. F. Vichert in meetings at Fort Wayne, 
Indiana, but there arrived at Fort Wayne also a cold wave, 
fierce and blustering. It gave him a shivering blow. He writes 
to Orie: 

"It cuts me low to think that after our matchless comrade- 
ship during Christmas we are now so far apart. I believe I 
never enjoyed you so much. 

"The thermometer here is skirmishing with zero and the 
news is that the North Pole, having been discovered and made 
much of, has decided to make a pilgrimage towards the equator." 

He usually smiled his difficulties out of court, but this In- 
diana weather hit him from all sides. 

"The snort of the blizzard is in the street" he writes me "and 
his white frost forecasts yet greater severities than we now have. 
I am much cheered by the outlook of the meeting though it must 
suffer some under the stress of weather. 



588 FORT WAYNE 

"The Seminary has been brow-beating and cajoling me for 
a year to get me to give some specific help in favor of the 
enlarged endowment. As usual I fall below the mastery of 
fraternal appeals and I have consented to give them a few 
months and with this in view I have called in all other engage- 
ments. 

"Do give Dr. Dodd my love — just blizzards and cataracts 
of it." 



CHAPTER XLI 

1910 

SERIOUS SICKNESS AT FORT WAYNE, IND. ARTICLE ON "THE GRIPPE." 

CLOTHES. LETTER TO DR. C. H. RYLAND. SELECTING THE 

TITLE. "ALONG THE TRAIL OF THE FRIENDLY YEARS." 

MESSAGES ABOUT HIS NEW BOOK. 

About midnight on January 5th, my door bell rang and a 
telegram was handed me from Fort Wayne which read, "Your 
father ill; come at once." I started immediately and next 
morning at Fort Wayne I found him utterly prostrated by a 
virulent attack of the Grippe. 

The following letter from the pastor Dr. Vichert, to his 
daughter Orie was written just before the collapse came: 

"Your father reached Fort Wayne late on Saturday night. 
He preached most inspiringly twice on Sunday and again on 
Monday night. The weather Tuesday was excessively cold 
and, to use his own expression "struck its blades into every 
chink". . . Your father is a confirmed and inveterate 
worker and has no mercy on himself apparently. I am trying 
to slow down his pace a little while he is with me and I have 
positively refused to take any dictation from him today." 

I remained with him for several days and then, upon per- 
mission of the Doctor, we bundled him up carefully, stowed him 
away in a Pullman apartment and I brought him as far as 
Baltimore where, in my home, we had the pleasure, for seven 
weeks, of nursing him back to health. During the journey 
from Fort Wayne he spent a part of the time while lying on the 
couch in dictating an article on the Grippe which was published 

589 

§ 






590 ARTICLE ON THE GRIPPE 

in the Herald and in this dictation he spoke, not only out of a 
full heart but also out of an aching body. The article met high 
praise from the public. 

It ran as follows: 

"Five times I have fallen under its deadly stroke. Heretofore 
it has always struck me in a new place but in a way that all the 
other places felt the shock. This time its blow was Briarean, 
touching me at all points at the same moment. 

"I have taken it rather crossly that my family finds actual 
satisfaction out of my sickness when delirium comes on. They 
take it as a token that the case is not serious and tell me that 
I always shoulder forth my budget of domestic grievances 
and exact summary adjustments under a thin delirious dis- 
guise. 

"This time my family lost the gaiety of the occasion, but 
the Vicherts, Dr. Harrod, the trained nurse and the rest of the 
earth furnished ample scope for my pessimistic fury." 

He also tells how it played havoc with his appetite: 

"My appetite lost its sense of preference. In the former days 
roast beef and irish potatoes made me sorry I could not live 
in London so as to get them at their best all the time; but 
when these two choice edibles were brought in I was as much 
offended as if the whole of the Armour slaughter house had been 
dumped in upon me. The taste of beef enraged my anatomy. 

"And so with the Irish potatoes, the most universal, the 
most toothsome, a true cosmopolite, at home in every climate 
and soil, good every day and three times a day, good under 
varied preparations, of all its kingdom the best to me; and yet 
when its fine old flavor saluted me on my return to civilization 
I drew back with horror. My stomach cried out against it. 

"On the other hand there was the orange — no favorite of 
mine; I had a cultivated antipathy set up against the orange, 
but when I wearily awoke from my sixth knockout I employed 
all the few mental fragments which I brought back with me in 
scheming for oranges. And Coffee — delicious, steaming, zest- 
ful — how I had loved it; how I resented the publication in 
religious papers of attacks upon coffee and encomiums upon 
such sniffling and fraudulent substitutes for coffee as postum — ■ 
(Bah) — and cocoas. Imagine myself, upon touching earth once 



ARTICLE ON THE GRIPPE 591 

more, to find that coffee had lost its charm. It looked as if I 
were coming back to the earth, but not the old happy earth 
where I was when the monster struck me. 

"A secret telegram sped out of Fort Wayne to Baltimore 
which, in very short order, brought my son Dr. E. B. Hatcher 
to my bed side. I remember that while in London some years ago 
I chanced to find that Dr. J. P. Boyce was in the city and very 
ill. I made haste to find him and, when his daughters brought 
me in, his face ran wet with tears and grasping my hand he 
said, 'Oh, Hatcher your face is the light of Heaven.' It is worth 
something to one sick far from home, though never so well at- 
tended, to have a familiar face, — a face behind which there is 
love unmeasured, — to break suddenly into the sick room. 

"My sickness has its irritations and its uncertainties, but 
when I think of all the health, travel, service, happiness 
and friendships which have gladdened my way I take counsel 
of my memory and of my hope also, and leave the present to 
work to its end. 

"This crooked and disjointed letter is contrary to the order 
of those who have me in hand, but I hope that not all the people 
will regret that I got this article in spite of the doctors and the 
nurses." 

He was a model of patience as he lay upon his bed in Balti- 
more, with his doctor seeking day by day to get him started 
towards recovery. His strength seemed fond of the zero point 
and the physician's efforts to coax it upwards were unavailing 
at first. The young Doctor, whom Dr. Hatcher eyed with many 
a penetrating glance at first as if he was seeking to discover 
what was on the inside, went away from each visit saying to 
himself, "Well that is surely a unique and wonderful man. I 
never tackled just such a patient as he. My, but he is bright!" 
Dr. Hatcher became fond of the young physician. 

His publisher asked him to sign his name on a sheet of paper 
and send it to him as he wanted his name [in his own handwriting] 
to go in the new book. From that time he put his pen to work 
and one day we found his bed and floor almost covered with 
papers on which he had been writing his name. He had a 
habit, when sitting near a table, whether talking or listening, 
of moving his hand rapidly back and forth on the table top as 



592 SOME PERSONAL TRAITS 

if he had a pen between his fingers and were writing something 
important and, even if there was no table near at hand, often 
during the conversation he would be moving his fingers along 
his knee, — or in the air, thus going through the form of rapid 
writing. At other times, — when not apparently writing — he 
would tap with his fore-finger on the table or desk. He would 
often do these things at the dining room table and when he was 
not indulging in these two apparently unconscious habits he 
would often — though not habitually — rattle his knife, or fork, 
or spoon while he was talking, — especially while waiting be- 
tween courses. It looked as if the motion of the fingers of his 
right hand in some way formed a pleasant accompaniment 
to his thoughts and his talking. 

He yielded to the appeal from the Louisville Seminary that 
he would lead their financial campaign in Virginia for raising 
$200,000 and even from his sick bed he directed this move- 
ment, — selecting his lieutenants in the state and organizing 
and directing them in the work. Every week he filled a page 
in the Herald with breezy items about the campaign. Orie 
and Edith had given him a new overcoat and he thus writes to 
Orie: 

"Anna has conceived a cruel prejudice against my old over- 
coat, but it has a sort of old-oaken-bucket charm for me and I 
know not exactly how to give it up. 

"Eldridge wrote you a day or two ago. I suppose he told 
you how I was getting along, though if he knows how I am 
getting along he knows better than I do. I am still thinking 
emptily about the title for the book. I drop two or three here; 
Taying court to other Days', 'From Bedford to Careby Hall'; 
'A Budget of the Best'. 

"Possibly by this time you have more suggestions." 

His attitude towards his old clothes — and his new ones as 
well — was interesting. At Careby the "old oaken bucket 
charm" seemed to linger around several of his suits, which could 
name — each of them — several birthdays. He had them folded 
and kept in their appropriate places. It looked as if each gar- 



HIS CLOTHES 593 

ment had for him certain friendly associations and as the months 
sped by he would wear, — now one suit and now another. He 
loved to get clothes, — and he would often get the very best; 
but he seemed to have an aversion to wearing them, especially 
at first. It looked as if he almost regarded the wearing of a ele- 
gant suit as a degradation of it; at any rate it was often the case 
that our appeal to him to put on his "fine suit" would be un- 
availing. He seemed to enjoy thinking of it as reposing in all 
of its undisturbed splendor in his closet or drawer at home. It 
ought to be stated however that one of these elegant broad 
cloths was kept for a sacred occasion, — viz., his burial. His 
pride as to his death reached even to the clothes in which his 
body should be clad in its final abode. He looked his best in a 
black suit, which presented an impressive contrast to his snowy 
white locks and beard. I can see him now, in memory, as he 
stood dressed in such a suit one Sunday on the pulpit of the 
Eutaw Place Church in Baltimore. He had preached and Dr. 
Dood, the pastor, was leading into the baptistry at the side of the 
pulpit a candidate to be baptized. Dr. Hatcher had walked to 
the extreme front of the pulpit and was leaning slightly for- 
ward that he might witness the ceremony and in his dark suit, 
and with his flashing eye, his genial, animated face and his 
patriarchal appearance he presented a picture that was striking 
and — to borrow the word that was applied to him on that day 
by another — "beautiful". 

He had received a letter that gave his heart a happy nutter. 
It was from his Chinese boy, Ah Fong who, after graduating 
with honor at Richmond College, had gone to New York to 
earn money with which to enter Columbia College in New York. 
In his letter, after telling of his experiences in New York, Ah 
Fong writes : 

"I am happy and like this work [in a Chinese restaurant] all 
right except with the fact that I would not be able to see you 
for quite a long time. But I think of you every day; of your 
kindness and help to the stranger from the Orient. No, I shall 
never forget you and it will always give me pleasure to remember 



594 COLEMAN M 

you as my benefactor. . . I am sorry to hear that you are 
sick. . . I would like to be there and attend to you. 

"When I first came here the other people had a hard time 
to explain themselves and I was in the same fix. But now I 
could understand some Chinese and could talk a little already. 
The Chinese comes back to me very rapidly. . . With two 
exceptions all the waiters are Chinese students who are working 
their way through College. 

"I hope to save at least seventy-five dollars per month, if 
not more, so that I may enter Columbia next Fall. . . 
Please write to me as a line from you always gladdens my 
heart. 

"Gratefully Yours, 

"A Fong Yeung." 

The reader has hardly forgotten the orphan boy, Coleman 

M , whom Dr. Hatcher many years before this, took 

to his heart and home and sought to train for noble manhood. 

At this writing he is Dr. Coleman M , a very successful 

surgeon. He thus writes to Mrs. Hatcher: 

"My Dear Mrs. Hatcher, — I can never forget the fact 
that whatever measure of success I win in my profession is due 
in large measure, to the wonderful kindness, the princely 
generosity and the fatherly love of your dear husband. I often 
think of the dear happy days when you played mother to me. 
The love and kindness of you and Dr. Hatcher will always re- 
main one of the most cherished memories of my childhood. 

"I thank you for your invitation to Careby and can assure 
that there is nothing that Nelly and I would enjoy more. 

"With much love. 

"Coleman." 

One day during his convalescence he said, "Eldridge get 
your machine I want to write a letter" and as he sat by my desk 
he dictated the following epistle to his friend of a life-time, Dr. 
Charles H. Ryland. I took no carbon copy of the letter — but I 
realized as I was writing it for him that I would surely want 
such a fine letter for the biography when I should come to 
write it and so before mailing it I made a copy of it, — without 
his knowledge, for I did not wish him in his letter-writing to 



LETTER TO DR. C. H. RYLAND 595 

have his mind confused with the thought that he was writing 
for posthumous publication. 

"Baltimore, Md, Feb. 13, 1910. 
"Dr. Chas. H. Ryland: 

"My ever beloved Friend, — A letter from Richmond tells me 
that you are sick. It does not indicate that your sickness is of 
a grave nature, but the fact that you are out of kelter comes 
home to me. Our little College circle grows more and more 
pathetic as it shrinks by one loss after another and those of them 
that are left grapple my heart in a most intense way. I hope 
that your sickness is not serious, that you will soon be out and 
at it again and that when my dust is put in its silent home that 
you will be there as a friend through all the changing years. 
I have found you one always steadfast, ever true and constantly 
commanding my warmest affection. Everything that per- 
tains to you pleases me except your sorrows and your burdens 
and even them would I gladly share. 

"I am publishing a book, — somewhat of the reminiscent sort. 
The writing of it and now the correction of its proof, has greatly 
revived my early recollections, both of Bedford and of the col- 
lege and indeed of all the intervening time. At so many turns 
and forks of the way you come before me, ever the same honest, 
quiet, true-souled Charles whom Harvey and I learned to love 
in our early college days. I cannot think of Richmond College 
without your figure and your record ever breaking upon me and 
the sight of you is as sweet to me as the morning light after a rest- 
less night. Your voice carries something that always proves a 
tonic to me and while you do not write to me often, and then 
in only a business way, the sight of your old handwriting, 
unchanged by a half-century's busy strain always brings good 
cheer. 

"So my friend of the silver locks I greet you. I bid you 
cherish life, keep an eye on your limitations and continue to 
live. For you and your family my soul riots with good wishes. 
Your home in many ways has been ideally beautiful in my eyes 
and I think I can truly say I never entered its doors without 
feeling the better for it. 

"This letter is not intended to deal with my own case, 
and yet you will wish to know how it goes with me. I 
am paying the penalty of an overstrained life. Last 
year I preached about 275 sermons and delivered not 
much less than 100 addresses of one sort and another, not in- 



596 LETTER TO DR. C. H. RYLAND 

eluding after-talks in revivals after my sermons. Besides I 
wrote the biggest part of the material for my 350 page book, 
canvassed for the Seminary and for the Academy, besides con- 
ducting the correspondence for the Academy. Of- course it 
was too much; it brought on eczema and then came my attack 
of La Grippe and the Doctor and my trained nurse and my ever 
devoted children in Baltimore are trying to nurse me back to 
my old vigor. Thus far they have done admirably well and 
but for the fierce and pitiless Baltimore weather, I think I 
would be about ready to take my staff and journey back to old 
Virginia. I'd like to come, earth has no spot so sacred to me as 
Virginia, for I know it so well that I almost imagine it is a 
single spot. I would like to come back to get the healing 
efficacy of your smile, to see Bagby, to see Shipman, to see 
Charley Herndon, to see Lake, to see Boatwright and of course 
to see Careby Hall and all that it implies. Edith and Orie run 
down from Bryn Mawr as if they were simply over in the 
woods beyond the branch and when they do not come, they 
do other things almost as invigorating and consoling. I have 
written you a long letter, longer I fear than you are willing to 
read, but read enough of it to know that old W. E. of the long 
ago still carries Charles in his heart. We know not what the 
future holds for us; but how great and gracious the outputs 
of Heaven have been to us in the past and still are and we need 
not fear that the Bread of life will run short nor that the oil of 
Salvation will give out. The big part of it all I humbly trust 
and believe for you and me is yet to come. 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

It was during his convalescent period that he had the pleasant 
wrangle about the title of his new book of Reminiscences. He 
selected as the title "The Song of the Trail" and seemed to 
think that in that title he had discovered a jewel of the first 
water. But scarcely anyone of us liked it. But he clung to it, 
and defended it from all attacks and plead its cause strongly. 
He finally gave up the battle, — I think with much regret, though 
he did not say so. He declared that he must at least retain the 
word "Trail"; so he finally worked up the title "Along the trail 
of the years"; and then he wanted a word to go with "trail" 
and we thought of the adjectives "happy" and "busy" and 
others were thought of. We had lively times around his bed 



CHOOSING THE TITLE 597 

balancing words, hunting through the dictionary and discussing 
the different titles. At last the word "friendly" seemed to 
please him greatly and the title then read, "Along the trail of 
the friendly years," and he took his stand upon that. A help- 
ful counselor in our discussions was Dr. C. H. Dodd. 

Next came a genial wrangle with his publisher — when he sent 
him the title. Mr. Revell did not like the word "friendly" 
as well as the words "long" or "active". He thought the title 
would sound better reading either, "Along the trail of the long 
years", or "Along the trail of the active years" and he wrote 
Dr. Hatcher to this effect. In reply Dr. Hatcher wrote the 
following letter which Mr. Revell was so much pleased with 
that he sent it for use in this memoir. In this letter Dr. Hatcher 
tells why he does not like the titles "Along the trail of the active 
years" and "Along the trail of the long years,": 

"Baltimore, Md, Feb., 16th 1910. 
"Mr. Paul Moody: 

"My Dear Mr. Moody, — Your courteous letter came today. 
I did not wire you because I needed a little more time for re- 
flection. I feel that the matter must be settled and I wish what 
I say to be final and yet leaving to Mr. Revell some margin 
for the exercise of his judgment at the last moment. 

"The two titles which Mr. Revell suggests differ only in the 
word 'long' and the word 'active'. The first betokens age and 
is not inspiring; the second implies my industry and activity 
and has something of the self-complimentary about it. I 
think of my life not as an output so much as the product of 
God's productive grace. I forget the things that are behind 
so far as they celebrate me. I would prefer therefore as the 
title 'ALONG THE TRAIL OF THE FRIENDLY YEARS.' 

"It has in it the suggestion of the helpfulness of the world 
and the providence of God as I have come along the way and 
besides it is not commonplace. 

"With this statement, I put my last suggestion in a bunch 
with Mr. Revell's two, with the agreement that he will use that 
adjective of the three which you and he are fully convinced is 
best, bearing in mind my preference strongly expressed, but 
yielded if you are convinced that it would be better for the 
book. Between 'long' and 'active' I would prefer 'long'. 



598 RETURN TO VIRGINIA 

I have never mentioned the subject of a foreword because I do 
not care about it. I would be glad to dedicate the book to my 
son unless your house has some decided prejudice in the matter 
of dedications. I inclose the form of dedication which you will 
oblige me by using. You expressed a purpose to put my auto- 
graph on the front outside page. I prefer to send you a copy and 
will do so at once. 

"Very Sincerely, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

He decided upon his sick bed that he would leave for 
Virginia on a certain day and when that day arrived — to our 
dismay — he went. We did not at first take seriously his dis- 
cision to go on the early date and we had much pleasant cross 
firing on the subject; but our remonstrances and our uplifted 
hands and horror stricken faces were unavailing. I went with 
him to Richmond where he plunged at once into his work for 
the Seminary, — sick though he was. He seemed determined 
to crowd as much labor into his remaining days as possible: 

"He is quite cheerful today" writes my mother from Careby 
Hall. "I hear him whistling as he is packing. He seems to be 
nearly through with the proof [of his new book]. He cannot 
work without getting tired. I'm grieved to see him lose his 
flesh, as I know you will be. You had better keep up with him 
in Petersburg. Tell him to write you how he is, if he gets the 
attention he needs, etc. 

"Of course it looks cruel almost to see a sick man travel and 
work, but I do not think we can keep him in and I do not know 
that it would be best. The best thing seems to be for- us to 
keep up with him; get him to keep to his medicines and not 
overwork." 

He writes from Richmond, "I find it a tough business to get 
back my old and enduring vitality. Dr. Mullins says that 
I must not take collections or do personal canvassing for the 

Seminary but I am at least going out to B [a country 

church] tomorrow and seek to hammer that Pharasaic little 
band into benevolent shape." He was cheered by a jovial 
letter from his friend, Dr. Arthur Jones of Colgate University : 



PETERSBURG 599 

" Sunday, as I was going to Church, President X- 



came up. Said he, 'I received a letter from a young friend of 
mine the other day and he said to give his love to you.' 'And 
who was that?' said I. 'Willie Hatcher' says he. And so it 
came safely. Thanks, very much. But I never let on that I 

had earlier heard from Br'er Hatcher. So X goes 

along as chesty as you please thinking he's the only man on the 
job who gets letters from 'The gentleman from Virginia'. Oh 

well, X is all right. He's got religion; that's what's 

the matter with him. Say, but he gave us a noble sermon a 
week ago Sunday. It was great. No mincing matters. Christ 
is God. That's his creed; and he wants the folks to know it. 
"Oh, dear brother that memory [of the meetings of 1908] 
is very sweet and precious to many hearts in Hamilton. . . 
I am entirely satisfied that you never did such preaching be- 
fore or since." 

He writes on April 20th from Petersburg where he was hold- 
ing meetings that he was not very well. "But" said he "I 
am thankful that I can work at least a little in the service of the 
Lord." On the 23rd he writes from Petersburg: 

"I finished up my Sunday School lessons this afternoon and 
mailed them — a happy event . . Indeed the folks are going 
on rediculously about your scrappy old father but it will wear 
off. Crowds come to the meetings. . . Dedications are 
piling up on me. If my memory can be trusted I have nine 
engagements. 

"I am really in doubt about the Convention [at Baltimore in 
May] I am far from well and my strength quickly wears out. 
I really fear it will end my life to go through all of it and my 
present thought is to come for the Trustee [Seminary] meet- 
ing, see the opening and fade out at the moment when my 
vitality goes down. But never mind as to this." 

During these meetings at the First Baptist Church in Peters- 
burg and while in his weak condition he not only prepared his 
S. S. lessons but did his final work on his new book, "Along the 
Trail of the Friendly Years". Dr. Taylor, the pastor, says: 

"The last chapters of that book were prepared for the printer 
in my Petersburg study. We spent the forenoons revising 



600 HIS NEW BOOK 

the manuscript and correcting the proof. Happier hours I 
have possibly never seen. When we read together for the last 
time the last chapter of the manuscript, before wrapping it for 
the publisher, both were in tears. During that same revival 
meeting we also prepared together a goodly number of the 
Sunday-School lessons for the Southern Baptist Teacher. I 
was an expert with the typewriter and your father would walk 
the floor and dictate and thus working together our morning 
tasks were a mutual delight and to me they have left life-long 
blessings." 

At the close of the meetings he writes to Orie, "I am not 
in good shape, by any means, and am crushed by many burdens" 
He seemed almost painfully perplexed about coming to the 
Baltimore Convention. From Careby Hall he writes me on 
May 2nd: 

"My weakness has been pitiable and the thought of the 
Convention terrifies me. If I come it must be for only a 
fragment of time. I want to be there for two or three things 
but an overstrain would kill me." 

He came to the Convention, remained two days, was busy 
about many denominational matters, returned to Fork Union 
and a few days later was in Louisville for a conference in con- 
nection with the Seminary. 

It was at this time that his new book bearing the title "Along 
the Trail of the Friendly Years" made its public appearance. 
He had his first sight of the book as we were walking 
through the book room at the Convention in Baltimore. He was 
of course anxious regarding the reception which the book would 
receive from the public. In a few days the messages began to 
come in. "I began reading it one night and could not let go 
until the morning" writes Dr. P. T. Hale. Dr. Prestridge 
writes that he had read the book "with eager impetuosity 
and in tears" and then adds, "Take good care of yourself 
honored brother. You are too valuable to the Denomination 
for you to be careless." In a steady stream, from all parts of the 
world, there flowed in to him letters from those who had read 



HIS NEW BOOK 601 

the book and received light and blessing from it. The closing 
years of his life were brightened by assurances that came to him 
from every direction of the cheer and help that his book had 
given. They reached him not only through the mail, but he 
met them on the trains and almost wherever he went. 

Let us open the volume and make an effort to dis- 
cover its charm. It possessed many attractive features, — 
such as its sparkling style, its gleams of wit and humor, its 
singularly interesting short stories and the striking personality 
and history of the author; but it was not these qualities that 
gave the book its power over the reader. The distinguishing 
feature of the work was the rich spiritual note that sounded 
out clearly through the volume. The book ministered to the 
heart as well as to the brain. It stands for a particular truth, 
and that is that the old fashioned doctrines of grace will satisfy 
the human heart in this modern age as it did in the former days. 
But think not reader that Dr. Hatcher fills his book with 
disquisitions on that theological subject. The chapters treat 
of his own many-sided career and do this in popular fashion, 
with wit, sarcasm, satire and humor combined with the pathetic 
and the tragical. He makes no effort to preach; but the sun- 
light is in every chapter and the truth gleams along every 
page and the story of his life, in some way, shows the triumphs 
of the old gospel, and, to many, the chapters have been like 
music of the olden days breaking out again in their souls. 

A very interesting interchange of letters bearing on this 
feature of the book occured between Dr. Hatcher and Dr. J. F. 
Vichert, the present pastor of the First Baptist Church of 
Providence, R. I. This gentleman had written Dr. Hatcher 
asking him if he thought that "the good old times" which are 
pictured in the book could be repeated in these later days, — 
whether the spiritual experiences "so wonderful and rich in 
heavenly influence" which the author had had in his revival 
meetings could be expected under modern conditions. 

"There are things in the book" writes Dr. Vichert "which 
bring the tears as one reads. I feel as if I would give my right 



602 HIS NEW BOOK 

hand to see something like it now. In my own boyhood I 
witnessed some such scenes, but not for many a day have I 
seen anything of the kind. Are such things possible, or prob- 
able, in the atmosphere in which we live. . . The reading 
of your book kindled afresh a longing to see again something 
like what you there describe." 

Dr. Hatcher's reply was full and will repay very careful 
reading. 

"Fork Union, Virginia, July 13, 1910. 
"Dr. J. F. Vichert, 

"Fort Wayne, Ind. : 

"My Beloved Friend, — Your letter finds me overwhelmed 
by work, but it is so sweet and refreshing in its spirit, and you 
will so soon be hiding yourself in the blessful recesses of Canada, 
that I must stop the singing bands and the busy hum of my 
wheels to make a grateful bow to you for being the admirable 
brother that you are. 

"I was not at all unconscious of a change in the spiritual 
atmosphere in the christian world when I wrote my book, and I 
foresaw plainly enough that what I wrote would be an anach- 
ronism to some, a puzzle to others and possibly food for re- 
flection for others. I have been beaten upon by many changes 
in the atmosphere of the world in which I live since I was a 
small boy, but I never thought that these changes indicated 
or foretold any particular changes in the world itself. It does 
look as if we are living a good deal closer to the spiritual north 
pole than many of us did some years ago; but that does not 
abate my confidence in the spiritual equator. As for myself, 
I wrote out of myself — that was the purpose of the book. I 
told of spiritual things as I saw them, and felt them, and be- 
lieved them, and I expected that some would remand my ex- 
periences to primal times and mark me a religious hayseed. 
That I was willing to have done, though I have been quite 
surprised to find that some of the very best book critics have 
been among the most favorable in commenting on the ex- 
perimental parts of my book. They seem willing to vote what 
I say as genuine literature and that on the ground that I 
write about real things. They say that I touch life at one point 
and others touch it at other points, but that there is reality 
and literary value in the way I express nryself, just as Holmes 
and Emerson produced literature in telling their experiences 



HIS NEW BOOK 603 

at the points where they touched life. Not that I am banking 
in any great way on the literary value and permanency of my 
book. It is simply a thesaurus into which I have collected 
some of my living memories; as to what posterity, or even 
posterity's present ancestors, may decide about the book is a 
question I have never thought about. 

"I do not know at all that there will ever be a return of the 
exact spiritual conditions under which I have enacted my little 
part in the ministry. I see plainly enough the change in the 
wind, for while the wind is blowing I feel that the sense of divine 
power among christian people is evidently lessening, and there 
is a restless and nervous appeal to secondary causes to make 
up for the simple and unmistakable presence of God which we 
used to have. We must wait for another spiritual re-adjust- 
ment, and it must inevitably come — sure as we live under the 
dispensation of the Spirit. Exactly what it will be when it does 
come in its manifestations, I cannot foretell, but it must at 
least contain as distinct and reverential recognition of the 
Spirit's activity in forwarding the kingdom of God as there has 
ever been in the past. 

"But I write mainly to say a word about you. I believe in 
you with an almighty faith, I think that I had discovered be- 
fore your letter came some vagueness in your spiritual feeling. 
It seemed to me that you did not quite have an old-fashioned 
stand-point and did not see in the present situation enough to 
feel that you had an adequate substitute for what I have seemed 
to have. I thought that you were not very well satisfied with 
what you did have and had a wish that you had what I have 
had though you vaguely suspected that what I had had was 
out of date and could not be even galvanized into any sort of 
life now. God is with you as you are, and I think His power 
will work through you just as effectively as that power ever 
worked through me, or as you could ever work if you had the 
power which my book indicates that I had. 

"Be up and at it, my noble friend. You are the chosen of the 
Lord beyond all doubt, and I love you, and rejoice in you, and 
pray for you, and expect great things of you. Go on into the 
woods of Canada and do all you can. 
"Very Sincerely, 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

He had a curious experience in a western city, where he went 
to hold revival meetings. He tells of it in his new book. The 



604 HIS NEW BOOK 

pastor whom he was aiding in the meetings suddenly informed 
him that he did not favor the "old fashioned doctrines" which 
he was then preaching. The incident with its sequels bears 
so strongly upon the above correspondence with Dr. Vichert 
and upon his new book that we give some of the details. 

Dr. Hatcher in his new book thus tells his experience with the 
unsympathetic pastor mentioned above: 

"He was a brother of great learning and of theological views 
so advanced that they had gotten out of sight of my doctrinal 
opinions. I found the atmosphere quite frosty upon my arrival 
and my first meeting with the pastor, while courtly and hos- 
pitable on his part was not notably enthusiastic." 

An embarrassing conversation occured between the two 
later on : 

"He told me that he had heard me in several services and he 
felt constrained to tell me that my method of theological state- 
ment was not adapted to his congregation — that the old dog- 
matic way of stating the gospel was effete and had lost its 
power and that he could not see any outlook for the meeting. 
"I told him with utmost good humor, that I had evidently 
been brought there under a misapprehension and, as he had 
not seen or heard me before I came, I readily acquitted him of 
all blame for whatever had been done. I said to him also that 
it would be altogether impossible for me to recast my theology, 
or my methods of doctrinal statement, so as to fit into his 
meeting and that we would have to face the question as to what 
ought to be done and that I would cordially leave it to him to 
decide the question. 

"He left it to me, evidently supposing that I would bow my- 
self out. . . When I got away from my candid and frigid 
brother I fell back on my old theology and concluded that I would 
talk with the Lord about it and I was old fashioned enough to 
tell my Divine Master that I was in a predicament. I told him 
that the Gospel that I had been preaching had worked mod- 
erately well where I had gone along and that I would be wonder- 
fully glad to try it right there — indeed to put it on its mettle and 
see whether it had lost its power, telling him of course that 
if it was His will that I should beat a retreat, to sound his 
trumpet and I would take to my heels." 



HIS NEW BOOK 605 

He then tells of the meetings, how they grew to a glorious 
climax and then he continues : 

"I can say with all truth that I harbored no resentment 
against the pastor. I believed that we were so far apart intel- 
lectually and temperamentally that he was thoroughly sin- 
cere and besides I was so inexpressibly thankful to the Lord 
that He did not have quite so mean an opinion of me as the 
pastor did that I walked the mountain-tops. I am not sure 
that I ever had such strength and bliss as that meeting brought 
me, though I think I might have enjoyed it a fraction more if 
there had been just a few others who knew what had passed 
between the pastor and myself." 

It was one more triumph of the "old gospel" — so called — 
which in his case was ever new in its rich manifestations. The 
above incident had several sequels. He continues (in his book) : 

"Let me add that sometime afterwards I went back and 
preached a plain old time experimental sermon at the same 
place, and in the hearing of the pastor, and after it was over 
he came and said some of the most gracious things about the 
sermon expressing his assured belief that it would be of great 
service to the people." 

"Then, perhaps a dozen years afterwards, I preached again 
in his presence and preached with little change in my doctrinal 
standpoint, or in my method of expression and, at the same 
time also he was kind enough to say some things which I think 
I would characterize favorably enough by calling them com- 
pliments. 

"I think we got closer together through the lapsing years. 
His candor did me actual good, though I could hardly imagine 
that my simple preaching could have had much in it to enrich 
his lofty and scholarly life. Possibly our paths, as they were 
coming nearer to the eternal world, were getting closer to- 
gether and closer to the redeemer and, in those good ways, 
bringing us closer to each other." 

The above story was published in his book "Along the Trail 
of the Friendly Years", in May 1910 and soon afterwards 
another chapter in the story — unpublished — occurred. The 
above-mentioned pastor read the paragraphs in the "Along the 



606 HIS NEW BOOK 

Trail", and recognizing himself in the narrative he wrote a let- 
ter to Dr. Hatcher who thus refers to the letter in the following 
communication to me : 

"P. S. — I have just opened my mail. You remember how 

the pastor at D treated me when I went there for a 

revival. He told me I did not suit etc. I have just received 
a long letter from him in which he had all sorts of things to 
say about the book and makes a clean confession as to the 
mistake that he made testifying beyond all expression in favor 

of my work at X — and expressing the feeling that my 

book has in it a benediction for every christian minister. In 
some respects it is the most surprising letter I ever received. I 
will show it to you later." 

The letter reads as follows: 

"Dear Friend, — We have been greatly pleased by the 
perusal of your book, "Along the Trail of the Friendly Years" — 
especially as it describes your very peculiar experience at 
D ; for the good work done by you here is still wit- 
nessed to in its effects and remembered with gratitude by 
many. 

"I shall never forget your patience with our coldness and 
final triumph over it. . . But the stirring stories of your 
evangelistic labors and success appeal to me with peculiar 
force. I wish that every minister of the Gospel — especially 
the younger men — might feel the pressure of such testimony 
to the power of divine grace as your record renders. Intel- 
lectualism and formalism are the baleful liabilities of our pro- 
fession now. The churches are suffering because of the lack 
of spirituality, 

"The story of your life will revive their faith in the reality 
and simplicity of the 'power of God unto salvation'. 

"With kind regards." 

Dr. Hatcher wrote a kindly reply, closing as follows: 

"Your letter did me good in many ways and kindled in me 
a love for you which I am sure will not die in this world nor in 

the other. You have had a long stay at D and I have 

no doubt you have done much good." 



EXTRACTS FROM HIS NEW BOOK 607 

These pages will not permit copious extracts from his new 
book, but a few other selections are made in order that the 
reader may form an idea of the style in which the volume is 
written. 

In his chapter on "Sitting in the Ashes" he tells of the woe 
and desolation that broke upon his town of Manchester at the 
surrender of Lee and the fall of the Southern Confederacy. 
He then paints the picture of the Southern army and the two 
Northern armies passing through Manchester on their way 
home for disbanding and then he adds: 

"But I saw another sight, in connection with Richmond's 
fall, which I confess thrilled me a thousand times more than 
all the glory of all the victorious armies of the republic. It was 
a spectacle that broke upon me most unexpectedly; it came while 
the heavens were black with storm and the streets were wild 
with flooding rains. 

"What I saw was a horseman. His steed was bespattered 
with mud and his head hung down as if worn by long traveling 
The horseman sat his horse like a master; his face was ridged 
with self-respecting griefs; his garments were worn in the service 
and stained with travel; his hat was slouched and spotted 
with mud and only another unknown horseman rode with him, 
as if for company and for love. Even in the fleeting moment 
of his passing by my gate I was awed by his incomparable 
dignity. His majestic composure, his rectitude and his sorrow 
were so wrought and blended into his visage, and were so 
beautiful and impressive to my eyes, that I fell into violent 
weeping. To me there was only one where this one was; there 
could be only one that day and that one was still my own 
revered and cherished leader, stainless in honor, resplendent 
and immortal even in defeat, my own, my peerless chieftain, 
Robert E. Lee. 

"In that lone way, in the midst of rain and mire, with no 
crowds to hail him, with no resounding shouts to welcome him, 
with no banners flapping about him, did he come back from 
disastrous war. But Ah; we did not know. Conquered and 
solitary he was, but yet he wore invisible badges of victory; 
he carried spoils of conquest and honor which could never 
fail and in every step of his sad moving he was marching for- 
ward to take his place in the palace courts of universal fame." 



608 EXTRACTS FROM HIS NEW BOOK 

As an example of a different type of literature is the follow- 
ing selection from his chapter on "Shreds of a Trans-atlantic 
Outing." When he went across the sea he carried in his pocket 
"a formidable letter of introduction" to a Mr. John C. Graham 
of Glasgow, Scotland. He called at Mr. Graham's • residence 
upon landing at Glasgow, but the gentleman was out of the 
city. Dr. Hatcher arrived again at Glasgow on the day be- 
fore he was to take the boat on his return to America. He 
remembered Mr. Graham's name and his letter of introduction 
and so he set forth in search of the Scotch stranger. 

"It turned out that Mr. Graham was a prominent railroad 
officer and his office was within the precincts of the Glasgow 
station of that road. To attempt to find him would be about 
equal to undertaking to find a house in a town of a thousand 
people without any special direction. I was directed this way, 
then that way, then another way, then around somewhere, then 
back again, until I was far more concerned as to whether I would 
ever find my way out than I was whether I would find Mr. 
Graham. 

"Finally I struck a man in working clothes who had a heart, 
also a head. He informed me that he would take me straight 
to Mr. Graham's office. In vain I fumbled in my pocket for 
that letter which was to give me my character, and ambled 
along as if going to the slaughter pen, or some other place of 
relief. After running me a race amid cars, passages, stairways 
and short turns, he jerked open a door and said, 'Mr. Graham, 
a gentleman wishes to see you' and shot out, as much as to say 
that his part was done and he was determined not to witness the 
meeting. I stopped 'framed in the door' according to the tire- 
some phrase of the day, quite tired myself. 

"A gentleman, immense in frame and with a head colossal, 
and, in part, barren of its locks, threw up his golden rimmed 
spectacles to the top of his head, whirled suddenly in his re- 
volving chair towards me and fixed two large and magnificent 
eyes upon me. His gaze was keen enough to clip the buttons 
on my clothes and uncover me for inspection and yet behind 
it there was something gracious as seen in the distance. 

"Excuse me, Mr. Graham, let not my presence alarm you. 
I do not come to ask for anything; not that I have much, 
but I am an American and I have my return ticket and enough 



EXTRACTS FROM HIS NEW BOOK 609 

to get me on the boat. A friend of yourself in Richmond, Va., 
was much set on my shaking your hand and presenting his com- 
pliments and, to show you that you were not being imposed 
upon, gave me a good character, sketched with his own pen — an 
excellent letter, indeed, which I discovered two or three min- 
utes ago that I had lost. I am here for nothing on the earth, 
except to shake your hand, that I may tell Mr. Samuel C. 
Clop ton that I had seen you and had grasped your hand; if 
now you are willing to shake my hand we will have the cere- 
mony at once and close the exercises.' 

"Let me add, however, that in the event you decline 
to have the hand-shake I shall not take it ill; I have 
lived this long without shaking hands with you and I think 
that by hard pulling I might make the rest of the trip even 
though deprived of that privilege.". 

" 'I wish to say to you Sir' he said in loud tones, "I hardly 
find myself in a humor to shake your hand. You have not 
treated me with that respect to which, I think, a friend of Dr. 
Clopton's is entitled. You tell me that you are to take the 
American steamer tomorrow afternoon. You have so schemed 
Sir as to make it impossible for me to give you an adequate 
taste of old Scotia's hospitality. Where is your luggage? 
. . . I will take you to Hamilton Palace; I will have some 
gentleman to come in and take dinner with you tonight; I 
will notify my pastor that you will preach for us tonight and I, 
with my family, will take you down to Greenoch tomorrow 
evening and see you on your steamer. Poor treatment, I 
admit, but you are to blame for its not being better." 

As an example of some of the "evangelistic" pictures in 
the book may be mentioned the following The scene was in 
Petersburg, Va.: 

"It was during this pastorate, while exceedingly busy in my 
study one day, I heard a gentle rap at my door and upon open- 
ing it I found one of my little Sunday-School girls. Her pres- 
ence surprised me, for it was a week-day and I wondered that 
she was not at school. I asked her how it was that she had 
found time to come to see me. 

" 'Oh doctor' she said 'I came to bring you good news. 
This morning, while praying in my room, I found the Saviour, 
and mother was so happy about it that she told me that I might 
stay away from school and come down and tell you all about 



^T 



610 



SIMON SEWARD 



it.' I recall even now the radiant light upon her face and the 
joyous sincerity with which she told her story. It was better 
than a book on theology to mark the glow of religious rapture 
upon her face. Her out-spoken experiences bespoke the living 
Christ. We had a brief prayer of thanksgiving and she in- 
dicated that her visit was at an end. I bade her good-bye saying 
that I would see her that night, for we were holding revival 
services at the time. She made no reply and I repeated that I 
would see her that night. 

" 'Not to-night' she said, and her face took on a sudden 
shadow. 

" 'Not coming?' I said with unintentional cruelty. 'Do you 
not desire to come to the meetings?' I saw the lines of suf- 
fering on her face and her lip quivered. 

" 'Oh, yes, indeed; I would like above everything to be 
here to-night' she said 'but I cannot come. This morning after 
breakfast I asked mother if I might go across the street and 
ask a lady to come with us to church to-night. I told her that 
I had been converted and told her about the meeting and asked 
her to come with us to-night. She told me that she would come, 
but she was afraid to leave her baby with the nurse and I said 
that if she would come to the meeting I would stay with the 
nurse and help take care of the baby.' 

"The way she said it went to my heart. It told of her child- 
ish ardor and her genuine zeal and of the Christ-like self- 
denial already in her heart. She did not know that she had 
done a brave and lofty deed, but I knew it and I looked upon her 
with wonder and with love as she shook hands and flittered 
out of my office. 

"That night the house was crowded and I delivered a brief 
sermon at the close of which I invited inquirers to come for- 
ward. The front pews were filled with inquirers and among 
them a lady in mourning and deeply veiled. Approaching her 
I expressed pleasure that she had come and a desire to help 
her. She thanked me in a quiet and candid voice and told 
me not to concern myself about her, adding that she was the 
lady that little Alice Robertson had told me about. 

" 'Let me tell you' she said 'that for the first time in all my 
life my heart is full of religious peace to-night. When Alice 
came over this morning and told me about her conversion it 
greatly impressed me and when she offered to stay and care 
for my baby I realy felt that God had sent her and before I 
came to-night I knew that my little friend had led me to sal- 



SIMON SEWARD 611 

vation. After the meeting is over I will need you to talk about 
my future but you ought to go now and give the help to others 
which Alice brought to me to-day.' 

"My duties were driving me at a furious rate and, except 
a few words which I had with the lady that night, I knew noth- 
ing more of her until sometime after that I was told her hus- 
band was sick and expressed a wish to see me. I went of 
course and found him in bed. I had not seen him before but 
heard that he was a wholesale liquor-merchant and utterly 
regardless of religion. After greeting him I began to question 
him about his sickness but he cut me short. 'Never mind about 
my sickness' he said brusquely and yet with feeling, 'I have 
deeper troubles than any sickness could bring. Since that 
little Robertson girl got into my house the other day things 
have gone all awry. My wife is quite another woman and I see 
plainly enough that if I am to live with her I must be another 
man; but how can I? Can there be hope for such a man? It 
does not look that way to me. I am sick with my trouble and I 
thought maybe it was my business. I hobbled into my buggy 
yesterday and drove to the store and told my partner that I 
would never come into that house again; that the business I 
would leave to him and he could do what he pleased with it; 
that as for my part I would never sell another drop of whiskey 
if my family had to starve for it. I little know what will come 
of my action, but I am done with whiskey for evermore. I 
am glad of my decision but it does not give me peace and I 
thought you could help me.' 

"Truly he was a fit subject for the gospel and I need not 
tell you that in a little while he was another man and he has 
been ever since. It was not long afterwards when he entered the 
membership of my church. We needed no witness to tell that 
he and his wife had been converted. The proofs of it were 
written all over their lives and they were open letters read of 
all men wherever they went. For a time he was a man without 
a job and without an income, but business pursued him, threw 
its gates open to him and prospered him at every step. 

"He and his wife are still living. Almost boundless pros- 
perity has inriched his path. He has become a leader among 
men, a great Bible teacher, a liberal giver, a champion of 
every great enterprise and one of the truest and most devoted 
friends that God has ever given me. He has reared a large 
family and many of his children are busy and efficient in the 
service of the Lord. Simon Seward — that is his name and he 



612 



REAPING HIS REWARD 







and his wife walk humbly before the Lord and delight in his 
service and law. Little Alice did it. In her own bright and 
loving fashion she let her light shine and they saw it afar and 
followed it and it led them into the Kingdom." 

His next letter to me closes by saying, "I hope to do much 
in writing up my reminiscent stories. Send me the list of those 
we made out of those to write." This means still another book 
which he is writing, — a book of short stories, gleaned entirely 
from his own experience, and which he had used as effective 
illustrations in his sermons and addresses. There is a passage 
of scripture that reads, "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for 
thou shalt find it after many days." He had lived a long 
life of service for others and now in his last days he was begin- 
ning to reap a reward. His cares were many even to the end and 
yet they were often drowned in the happy current of grateful 
words about his book and his life that were ever flowing to 
him through his mail and his conversations. He would come 
in from his trips, and his piles of letters, while bringing him 
varied appeals and bothers, would also pour their sunlight upon 
his heart. He rejoiced to note that through his book he was 
still preaching to others and possibly his soul was stirred by the 
thought that when he had passed away his book would con- 
tinue its work. Dr. C. H. Dodd wrote him a delightful letter 
about his book "Along the Trail, etc.," and in reply he writes 
to him: 

"My beloved friend, — You over-do it decidedly but it is 
a holy type of exaggeration pardonable in my sight, if not in 
the sight of heaven. Your favorable estimate of my book is 
food for a somewhat — invalid author's pride. I am glad to 
have your praise for my book and I charge it up to that friendly 
kindness of yours which has done so much to cheer and gladden 
me in the past. 

"Very Sincerely, 

"W. E. Hatcher." 

A minister from Illinois writes: 

"I read pages from your 'John Jasper' in my pulpit and then 
my son did the same in his. He has the finest church in Mil- 



LOVING MESSAGES 613 

waukee. . . How he and his wealthy congregation did 
enjoy that book." 

"Say, but that chapter on The Incomparable Jeff' is a classic" 
writes Dr. Arthur Jones concerning his new book. 

The loving messages that kept trickling in through the mails 
were good medicine to him. "You have been an incalculable 
blessing to thousands", writes Dr. E. Y. Mullins, on July 
11th, "and will be, I believe, to the last moment of your life, — 
which may the Lord defer a long time." Among the letters 
that came to him was one from his friend, Rev. Andrew Broaddus 
of Caroline County, telling him of the great help that the book 
had brought him and of his love for the author. In reply Dr 
Hatcher writes : 

"I found my eyes bedewed with tears as I read your af- 
fectionate letter. I have been drawing sweetness from the two 
Broadduses for a long time. Your father gave me great pride 
in giving me such an ardent friendship; Luther was wrought 
into my soul and his image lives in my memory today; and as 
for you and Julian how could I ever tell you of the freedom, 
the intimacy, the joy of my companionship with you and I am 
simple enough to believe that the sweetest drop which ever fell 
from my cup dropped from your letter as I read it this morn- 
ing. So far as I can judge the chief care about my book is as to 
the measure of comfort and inspiration it may give to others. 
I will respect the book more because it did you good. 

"I find my heart set on coming, if possible, to the Hermon. 
Save the meanest little room that you have in the house for 
me and if the Lord will allow me I will be there. 

"Give my love to the family in overflowing measures and 
tell Gay and Kirk to keep the music of the Fork Union bugle 
rolling over the hills and plains of Caroline." 

In reply to Dr. E. Y. Mullins' letter he writes: 

"I have just received your exceedingly spicy and piquant 
letter. I have just one remark that I will make in reply to it — it 
is simply unanswerably good. But there is a thing I would like 
to do. I find myself disposed to put your father 'No. 1' and 
you 'No. 2' and so I write to ask your father's address that 



614 LOVING MESSAGES 

I may send him a copy of my new book. If I have any doubt 
as to your capacity to enjoy my book I give your father credit 
for having just that kind of genius and gumption that will 
make him like my book. 

"Send me his address and I will send him my book as a token 
of my appreciation of him as your father and in the hope that 
it will cheer and prove companionable to him in his convalescent 
days." 

"You always gird and stimulate me" writes a pastor. "I 
love you with all of a son's strong devotion. In my bitter 
grief your book has been a blessing." 



If 



ill 



I 



\i 



Dr. M. L. Wood of Huntington, W. Va., writes on July 19th: 

"I have laughed and cried with you 'Along the Trail of the 
Friendly Years', and have wished and resolved many things 
with you along the delghtful journey. I often think back to 
the time when, in the beginning of the eighties, my own path 
crossed that trail. That you then had a kind word for the 
green and awkward Country lad, all unprepared for College 
work, has had a vast amount to do with what has been worth 
while in the after years of his work. . . Now that you wear 
on your frosted locks the crown of a strong life, nobly spent in 
self-sacrificing service, I wish that I might add at least a rose- 
leaf to the chaplet that shall wreath the crown; not that I could 
enrich the votive offering, but merely share in the honor and 
happiness of putting it in its worthy place. I love you very 
much and count you one of God's best gifts to the cause as 
represented by the Baptist people. I trust you will pardon me 
for the liberty I have taken to write thus, but I wanted to say 
this much at least before heavenly music dulled your ears to 
earthly voices." 

His chief attention at this time was given to the Seminary 
campaign in Virginia. Through his several canvassers he 
sought to cover the state and by his weekly jottings, in the 
Herald he sought to stimulate the movement. His burdens 
were many, but there seemed to be ever a song in his heart and 
a growing light upon his path. 



CHAPTER XLII 
1910—1911 

GAMES WITH THE GRANDCHILDREN. CONTINUED TRIBUTES TO HIS 

BOOK. INTEREST IN PEOPLE. CAUGHT IN A HOTEL 

FIRE. BLUEFIELD. 

When he would run into Careby from his trips, during 
this Summer season, he would find himself busier than 
when he was out upon the highway. Academy matters 
were always waiting to crowd him with their questions 
and appeals. His mail had to be answered and his stenographer 
would appear on the Careby hill a few minutes after his arrival. 
But in the rush the grandchildren generally occupied the center 
of the stage. They were now at a good age for "games" and 
many were the contests which he had with them. After a heavy 
drive with his stenographer, or after several straining confer- 
ences in his office with different visitors, he would call out 
"Virginia!" or "William!" or "Katherine!" and when he heard 
their answer he would call out, "Quoits!" or "Dominoes!" 
It was interesting to watch him at a game of dominoes with one 
of the children. There were really two children playing when 
he was one of the players. He became utterly lost to the 
outside world in the contest and would work with might and 
main to beat. He would groan out his disappointments when 
he would lose and shout his elation when he would win, and 
through it all he maintained a genial, kindly manner. 

He would not allow the game to drag, but would cry out in 
mock fierceness "Go on; go on," when his opponent would be 
slow in playing. "Oh, I am a ruined man" he would exclaim 

615 









616 GRANDFATHER PLAYING DOMINOES 

when some play would go against him. Again he would say. 
"Well, Brother Hatcher has hopes". "Hurrah for Bruder 
Hatcher!" he would call out when a new turn would come in his 
favor and thus he would keep up a running fire of comment — 
of which he almost appeared unconscious, so absorbed was he 
in the contest. 

One day Katherine saw him and Virginia engaged in a game 
of dominoes. Grandfather's "carryings-on" in the game amused 
her. With knitted brow and eager manner he was trying hard 
to beat and was running a regular fusillade of ejaculations 
about the game. Katherine decided that she would take down 
on paper these ejaculations. She knew how much Edith 
and Elizabeth at Bryn Mawr would enjoy it and in a spirit 
of fun she picked up pencil and paper and slyly jotted down 
Grandfather's comments just as they came from his lips. This 
particular incident occured during the winter when Katherine 
and Virginia were staying at Careby, but the exclamations 
give a picture of how Grandfather "kept things lively" in his 
games, — whether in Summer or Winter. 

The dashes indicate the pauses between the comments, though 
there were not many seconds in which he was not stirring up 
the contest with some remark. 

His outbursts were as follows: 

"She wont hollow like I will. 

"Oh, brother Hatcher, I am sorry for you. Go on with 
blank — one. Go on. 

"Brother Hatcher — busted — Ten, ten, ten; go on; let me see, 
Oh, yes; you have got to do some playing, go on I dont believe 
I could if my life depended on it. 

"I never desired any more than that. Go on. Get away 
from her. This girl has to stop every time you crook your 
neck — Go on, you are fifteen, I am nothing on the top of the 
ground. 

"I am nothing and am getting worse. Go on here. Well 
I believe the time has come for me to be heard from. 

"Great Caesar, you are just ruining me. Let me see; now 
that is a six-four-let me see, let me see — six, six, six six, one, 



GRANDFATHER PLAYING DOMINOES 617 

two, three, four, one, two, four, one. Great Caesar, there is 
nothing to play. I will play that any way, forty-four, fifty- 
five — you did that just because your mother was in here, — ■ 
you did not get double blank — blank, go on, go. 

"That's five for you. Go on. You got five, I did'nt . Go 
on — you are fifteen — you are ten, I am nothing on the top 
of the ground — Dedle, dedle de, de, de. Stop; look here where 
did you knock that man? — All I get over, this time, I'll take 
off you. Oh, brother Hatcher you are getting on beautifully — ■ 
I'll put it that way if it costs me a bushel of snaps, — Ten 
for me — some men are gone. Go on, go on — now this is a 
struggle — If you get over four hundred I'll give you a quarter. 
Go on, I got spoilt, I thought you would give me ten — well that 
was so nice in you — beautiful, beautiful — ten, ten, ten,ten — 
well I got twenty — at that rate you will lay me in the dust. 
Gone to pieces in his calapication — blank — one, two, three, 
four. I'll give you four — go on — four, four, four, four, four, — 
one, two — go on with your blank. 

"Let me see what would you do? Where did that go? — 
that's twenty, 20, 20, 20 — hello — go on. I wish you would 
play some time; that's what I wish — well I put it that way — 
Great Ceasar — wait here — let me see — how many have you 
got? — can you play a five? one six — two six — three six — 
five for Bruder — twenty for Bruder — twenty for Bruder — 
twenty-five for Bruder — twenty five for Bruder — twenty-five 
for Bruder — twenty five for Bruder — twenty-five for Bruder — 
blankee for Bruder — how many have you got? Let me see 
what I can do? — one two — one, two, three, four, — hello twenty- 
five, go on — Great Caesar, hello — Let me see what you have 
got — four. I'll get some of the big one's off. That is twenty- 
three I got off — how much did I get before five, five, five, let 
me see — five — that is ten for Brother Hatcher. I wish you 
would get some more. Ten for Brother Hatcher — Twenty for 
Brother Hatcher — that's five for you." 

At the end of this Katherine who took it down wrote "Grand- 
father said all of this. Virginia didn't say any." 

"You have just passed the 76th milestone" writes Dr. I. B. 
Lake "I lift my heart in thanksgiving to the good Lord that 
you are still -permitted to walk along the trail doing this work." 

Regarding the title which he had chosen for his book, Dr. 
McGlothlin of the Seminary wrote him, "The name is an 



618 



LOVING MESSAGES 



inspiration and will have for me perpetual value as a suggestion 
of the right attitude towards life's experiences." 

He writes to Rev. Andrew Broadus: 

"My prayer is that you may live many years, though there 
is one reason why I would like to outlive j^ou and that is that 
I might attend your funeral and tell the world what I think of 
you." 

"I picked up a fine boy for the Academy" he writes "and also 
picked up fifty dollars to help me take care of a poor boy." 

"One of the saddest thoughts that I have is that you are 
growing old" writes Rev. R. F. Treadway of Arkansas. 
In this world you will never know how greatly I admire you 
and how much I love you. Perhaps in eternity I can make you 
know more of it." 



One brother lays the blame for a headache at his door: 

"I have just read your last book, 'Along the Trail of the 
Friendly Years'. . I read until nearly one o'clock at night 
when wife said, 'You must go to bed' and I had to desist, but 
I began it again in the morning somewhere about four or five 
o'clock with the result which you are responsible for, — a 
feeling of fatigue accompanied with some headache. . . I 
wish to thank you with all my heart for the comfort and joy 
which this book has given me." 

"What a great mass of good you have done in your life" 
writes Dr. H. F. Colby of Dayton. "And how modestly you 
have only hinted at it while you have pictured so graphi- 
cally the scenes and people you have met. We love you very 
much in Dayton." 

"I must work while it is day; for the night cometh"; that was 
the motto which during these days seemed ever sounding 
in his soul. On October 6th, he writes me: 

"Just back from Lynchburg. The Almond wedding went 
off with a high and graceful bang. 




. \, 



-i 



EAGERNESS TO SAVE SOULS 619 

"I expect to end my Seminary work at General Association. 

After that ; Well, I am still dedicating; also my fame 

as a revivalist shows vital signs. Hollins is after me and North 
Carolina also. I must work, for the night cometh. 

"As to Baltimore I sicken to see you and 

yours. Words cannot tell out my yearning after you." 

A young preacher in Indiana, after telling of how he had 
devoured the book, closed by saying: "God bless you not only 
for this recent goodness but for what you were to me in my 
student days — unacknowledged until now." 

"Why do you go so much" said his wife to him one day as he 
was preparing to leave Careby on one of his trips. "Why not 
stay here at Careby? We have enough and can easily get along 
and you will find it not so heavy on you." 

Quickly he replied, "I would rather see souls saved than to do 
anything else on the earth". Dr. Landrum called him "a 
crowned king of workers". "We are having a fierce rumpus 
here between our H and our C [at the Aca- 
demy]" he writes. "But it will be over in a thousand years 
and so I will let it go by and see you at the end of the millen- 



He visited us in Baltimore, spoke before our State conven- 
tion and in a day or so was gone. He wrote a few days later: 

"I am having solitude in blocks and it makes me quite con- 
ceited that I am such delightful company for Brer Hatcher. 
He tells me he enjoys my society very much except I work so 
much that he cannot see much of me. He was always foolish 
about wanting so much." 

A young minister Rev. Mosby Seay, who spent a week with 
him at Careby, says it was one of the richest experiences of 
his life to read in his hearing the new book "Along the Trail". 

"I thought" says he "that the 'asides' he gave me as I read 



620 LETTER TO REV. J. E. BAILEY 

it as fine as the book itself and I regarded it a pity he did not 
incorporate them." 



The following letter to Rev. J. E. Bailey of Saluda, S. C, 
shows how he would seek by a letter to cheer a young pastor: 

"Your letter is glory itself. Your story of the Red Bank 
building programme is a poem. It positively charmed me. I 
rejoice that the hoary obstacles which have blocked your track 
are melting away and that your people are massing solidly for 
the work 

"The God of the. brave is with you. Stand to your colors 
and you will soon see the day of victory. 

"Oh, it will be glory enough if I can be on hand on that great 
and proud day in your life. I am hoping that the Lord will 
let me see that house of the Lord happily done. 

"I am now closing up my campaign for the Seminary. It 
has been a most engaging and satisfying task and I have found 
it a fountain of life. We set out to get $60,000 and I am sure 
that we are going beyond $80,000. 

"How is that for old Virginia? 

"I find myself ready to shout over the growth of your town. 
You intoxicate me with enthusiasm by the way you blow the 
Saluda trumpet." 






His wife writes to one of the children, "Your father gets some 
letters about his book nearly every day." 

Among these letters was the following from a friend whom 
he greatly loved, — Dr. R. H. Hudnall of Blacksburg: 

"I have just laid aside the most interesting book I have ever 
read in my life — your 'Along the Trail of the Friendly Years'. 
I hardly know how to characterize it, or what to say of its 
style. There was no one who could write as Addison did and so 
we name his style Addisonian; so there was a Johnsonese, a 
Carlyle and a Macaulayian style and so there is a Hatcherian 
style. . . You are inimitable and your strong personality 
is felt throughout. . . ." 



Next Spring at Philadelphia the Baptists of the world were 
to meet in the Baptist World Alliance. This gathering of 



THE BAPTIST WORLD ALLIANCE 621 

the Baptist hosts was scheduled to occur every five years. 
Dr. John Clifford of England was president and at the next 
meeting America is to have the honor of naming the new pres- 
ident. Who will he be? Dr. Albion W. Small of the Chicago 
University writes on November 5th in the Chicago Standard 
regarding the presidency, closing with these words: 

"As a sign of our fraternity and as an exhibit of the manner 
of man whom all American Baptists delight to honor I pro- 
pose that we select by acclamation Dr. William E. Hatcher." 

Dr. L. A. Crandall of Minneapolis followed with a brief 
statement closing with the words: "it seems evident that he 
intended to nominate everybody's friend, Dr. William E. 
Hatcher, as the next president of the Baptist World Alliance. 
I hasten to second that nomination with the understanding 
that Doctor Hatcher shall at once proceed to write us another 
book as charming as ' Along the Trail of the Friendly years.' " 

There was much talk of his election to the position but he 
laughed the idea out of court. He remarked that the new 
president would be elected to serve five years and that he 
was too near his end to undertake such a work for a five-year 
period. This was his feeling though of course he appreciated 
profoundly the kindness of his honored friends in suggesting 
his name. 

He went to Hollins Institute to aid Dr. George B. Taylor 
in meetings and near the end of the meetings he writes: 

"Sunday night; Great time tonight. A mighty meeting. 
Many Hollins girls came and several men of families." 

Again he writes: 

"The X incident [at Fork Union] is at fever heat, 

but I am too busy and feeble to be excited." 

A pastor who delivered a prominent discourse at the General 
Association in Roanoke wrote him after the Association that 
while he was preparing the discourse he had the thought, "I 
wonder what Dr. Hatcher will think of that." "Yes I did" he 
writes "I knew you would be there and that I would have no 
more sympathetic listener and with all your loving sympathy 



622 EVERYBODY'S FRIEND 

I knew you would listen with sharp discrimination. ,, At the 
Academy he conducted the service on Thanksgiving Day and 
at the close the Academy cadets presented to him a silver 
loving cup. "It pleased him very much" writes his wife. "It 
was a delicate way to express their love." 

It might be mentioned at this point that in his business 
dealings he seemed to have not merely a conscience for fairness 
but also a heart for the merchant. He scorned to higgle 
about the price and seemed ever anxious that the other party 
should come out of the transaction in good shape. Even the 
Italian fruit dealers at the depot where he would take the train 
for Fork Union would smile, and jump about with a new step, 
when Dr. Hatcher would approach, for he seemed to be inter- 
ested in them in such a kindly fashion and with nearly every 
purchase there was a striking sentence that they would re- 
member him by. 

When he had his office at the College during his work for 
that institution, he was often a passenger on the Broad Street 
car line and it was very noticeable how the faces of the con- 
ductors would light up when they approached him for the fare 
or when they would help him on the car. They all not only 
knew him but acted as if they thought he was their kind, good 
friend and he nearly always punctured them with a breezy 
bright word. It was on a Richmond Street car that he found 
one day a young man from the mountains acting as conductor, 
He told him that he was born for higher work and that young 
man is one of the useful pastors in Texas today. 

A gentleman who in those days was a student at the College 
says; "I remained at College during the holidays when nearly 
all the other students were away and one day Dr. Hatcher, 
noticing how lonely I seemed to be said, 'Here take this dollar 
and go and have an outing and a good time.' " 

Mr. W. C. Rowland the Philadelphia merchant with whom 
Dr. Hatcher had large business dealings every year in con- 
nection with the uniforms for the Academy wrote, "I have 
always felt that he was my brother; he was always kind to me 



TEACHING THE OLD COLORED MAN 623 

and I shall always feel grateful that. . .it was my privilege 
to call him friend." 

He went one day up into Powhatan county with his friend 
R. H. Winfree to attend a meeting. The meeting proved to be 
invisible but on their return they stopped on the road at 
Peterville to feed their horse. They sat down and soon Dr. 
Hatcher became engaged in a conversation with an old negro 
who was standing near and who seemed to be very feeble and 
infirm. 

Soon Dr. Hatcher said to the old man, "Are you a christian?" 
"No sar; I iz not. I ain' nev'r bin caus' I nev'r cu'd have dat 
'speriunce. Dey teP me yer got ter have de 'speriunce; I hear 
de others say dey dun got it but I ain' had it." 

Mr. Winfree in telling about the incident said that Dr. 
Hatcher then proceeded to tell the gospel story to the old negro 
who listened intently. He explained in simple language how 
we were saved, not by having some wonderful experience, but 
by trusting in Christ. Mr. Winfree said a few months after 
that he heard that the old man died and in his last moments 
said, "I don' kno 'bout de speriunce but I am trustin' jes' lek 
dat preacher tol' me dat day at Peterville." 

The Doctor in Florida who treated his sprained thumb a few 
months before his death wrote his pastor, Dr. Wildman, telling 
him of what a blessing his contact with Dr. Hatcher in his 
professional dealings with him had been. 

"For the past twenty years or more" writes Mr. Hunt 
Hargrave, a dearly loved friend, "you have been an inspiration 
to me and if I am of any account in the religious world much 
is due to my association with you." 

He brought to an end his work for the Seminary campaign. 
After expressing his appreciation of his labors Dr. Mullins 
added, "I can never express to you sufficiently my appreciation 
of all that you have been to me personally and to the Semi- 
nary." 



624 A CHEERING WORD FROM CHINA 

"Who thinks of William E. Hatcher" says the Herald "as 
an old man. He was never more abundant in labors and enjoys 
them all." 

His daughter Orie had asked him to write her what his needs 
for the winter were and in reply he wrote : 

"As for the matter of my needs for the wintry weather I 

Y am too stupid to speak with effect. I do not know what I need 

X[ .; and cannot say that I need anything. My needs seem dumb 

and do not cry out. Meet me in Baltimore and tutor me as to 

what I ought to have but have no concern about me. . . ." 

A letter came from China, from Rev. R. E. Chambers, a 
missionary in that country, saying that at a special meeting of 
Chinese girls he had told one of the stories of his book, "Along 
the Trail of the Friendly Years." He writes: 

"I related the incident as nearly as I could in a literal trans- 
lation of your own words. It would have done your own heart 
good to see how it stirred the audience of more than 100 girls. I 

I am satisfied that quite a number of these who were baptized 

two weeks later were to a considerable extent influenced by the 
story. I then prepared it for publication in the True Light 
monthly. Mr. Cheung Kaam Ue, the Chinese assistant editor, 
pronounced it excellent and tears were in his eyes more than once 
while I was dictating the story to him. I feel that you will 
enjoy knowing that the influence of your work and little Alice's 
love for souls is being felt on this side of the globe. I expect 
to translate several other incidents from the book." 

The pleasant tenor of his life was rudely broken by his 
experience on December 15th at Manassas. While he was asleep 
in the hotel fire was discovered in the building and he was 
suddenly awakened by the banging of doors and the inrush 
of smoke. 

"It was no cheerful fate," he writes, "to be tumbled out into 
the snow under the reluctant twilight, half-clad and pushed 
hither and thither by a wild and unthinking crowd 






ESCAPING THE FIRE 625 

"But somehow help always comes and this time it came in the 
manly form and the quick recognition of a former honored 
student at Richmond College, — Mr. Sinclair, now a young 
lawyer at Manassas, who quickly found me a guide and hustled 
me away to his father's house. It was kindness indeed and I 
was picking my way along the slippery paths when a sleigh 
came singing by and behold it had as its sole occupant another 
Richmond College boy, — he a lawyer also — Robert Hutchison 
by name, who, with imperious kindness, drew me to his side 
and at blinding speed whirled me away to the door of one of 
the most lovable of all the friends of earth, Westwood Hutchison 
and in a few more seconds I was in his cosy mansion with every 
member of the family acting as my servant and racking me to 
the point of torture to find what they could do for me. 

"Oh this world is fine, — filled up with love and light and 
hope and help and one might feel that it is well to stay here 
forever and be happy if there were no better place. In a little 
while the scene of the fire, the strain of the flight and the lurid 
horror of the flames were ail gone and I was taking breakfast 
peacefully and with zest in the home of the Hutchisons." 

He lost his valise and his two best suits at the fire, but he 
said, "I am living and I defy the earth to prevent me from 
being grateful." He had the joy of taking part in the cele- 
bration of the fiftieth marriage anniversary of Dr. and Mrs. 
I. B. Lake — friends greatly beloved — at Upperville, Va. 

A mother whose son Mortimer he had helped at the Academy 
writes him: 

"Oh, Dr. Hatcher, you have done great good in your life; 
you have brought peace and comfort to hundreds of lives and 
to no hearts have you brought greater joy than to mine and to 
Mortimer's." 

He and his wife spent the Christmas holidays with his three 
daughters Orie, Edith and Elizabeth at Bryn Mawr, and a very 
happy season it was for him. He stopped with us in Baltimore 
for a few days. While he was at Bryn Mawr his Chinese boy, 
Ah Fong, paid him a visit, — running down from New York 
where he was a student at Columbia College. Ah Fong writes, 
"When he saw me, he said, 'Well, Ah Fong, it does my heart 



626 



BACK AT CAREBY 



11 



good to see you again. So you are at Columbia, I know you are 
of the right stuff.' " 

He had sent out post card greetings to some of his friends, — 
among them to Dr. C. T. Herndon who replied: 

"That you, my father, should think of me and write with 
your own, dear hand such a sweet message touches me more 
deeply than I can tell you. . .You must take care of yourself 
for those who love you. . . I thank God for every remem- 
brance of you. Last night Skinner and I were talking over 
the phone of our admiration and love for you." 

None of the family were at Careby but he hastens thither 
where he writes : 



"I got home last evening just before seven. I found rain, 
mud and darkness waiting for me. But my ever faithful 
Stephens brought me to Careby at a clipping rate. My room 
was warm and full of light and soon hot coffee and batter bread 
made me forget that I had had no dinner that was worthy of 
respectful mention. That night I slept the sleep of the dilap- 
idated. Indeed I am still working off my fatigues. 
[I send this blot free] 

"I am writing nothing on my book. Indeed I am mixing 
indolence with idleness in equal proportions." 

Huntington, West Virginia, next claimed him for meet- 
ings. 

From that point he writes me : 

"Wood has almost punctured me to the point of a book on 
'Character Sermons'. I may come to it — if I do not come to 
my end too soon for that I never enjoyed preach- 
ing more in my life." 



To his friend, Dr. E. B. Bryan, President of Colgate Uni- 
versity, he sent the following hilarious letter: 

"Your letter is worth its weight six times in diamonds. I 
found it awaiting me on my return from Huntington, W. Va., 
where I held a glorious meeting. I ran in to lay up for repairs 



LETTER TO DR. E. B. BRYAN 627 

for a brief while and I have other engagements pulling at my 
throat. 

"I am working at another book — except that I am not; full 
half of the work is done and the other half lags because of my 
absence and also because of the fascination of indolence. 

"I am getting great accounts of you and Colgate. They 
tell me how splendidly you are doing and I knew you would. 
Your invitation for me to come — come not for toil but for 
love — come to revel in your hospitality — is distracting; I would 
like to see you in your new glories, see your wife, see your two 
girls and that jewel of your heart and mine, one Julian. Maybe 
I will come some time but I must wait to see. 

"You rather discount yourself in my judgment, but not 
in my feelings to write so ravingly about my book. If I could 
write it over again, I would put you and Arthur Jones and 
"Powl" in a chapter to yourselves and head it, 'My Best 
Chapter.' 

"It is equally fanatical and ill-conceived on your part to be 
throwing your hat in the air over the proposition to make me 
President of the Baptist World's Alliance. Dr. Small of the 
University of Chicago started that gracious fable. I have 
vanity enough to send a few pioneer thoughts out on the hill 
tops to bring back reports as to what an honor it would be 
to me if they did make me president. I also send my judgment 
along to keep my thoughts from making fools of themselves 
and require them to tell me there is nothing in it. 

"It was kind of the University of Chicago to propose 
it and probably a greater kindness in those — that innu- 
merable multitude who saw nothing in it — to sit still and be 
silent. 

"The weight of seventy six years bends one's shoulders out 
of shape and makes him unsuitable for carrying the burden 
of great honors which being interperted means that I am not the 
man. 

"You honored me by speaking of the Moores. God bless 
the boys. Albert was my first convert at Hamilton and he and 
Robert had a great dinner and invited me and several other 
boys to the frolic. Do give my love to them; quarrel with 
Prof. Jones continually for my sake. Tell Dr. Maynard that 
he and I and a few other Democrats now have the American 
Republic in charge and the country is safe. 

"But my pen runs riot and I must put on my curb 

"Ever and undyingly yours." 






628 LETTER TO DR. M. L. WOOD 

He sends the following letter back to the Huntington pastor, 
Rev. M. L. Wood. 

"My Dear Beer Wood, — I made a clean schedule run 
for home — lost no time, sleep was taken in small doses, Vir- 
ginia greeted me with genial sunlight and Careby Hall, though 
destitute of every member of my tribe, was warm and cheery 
in its welcome. . 

"I thought that rest awaited me, but all the bothers of the 
Academy and bundles of insistent letters, also my rebellious 
big toe, sprang on me and tore me up. 

"But I am living — Mark that! I miss Huntington grievously. 
I miss you — your sober kindness and your genial helpful 
company. You build me up outside and in. I miss Mrs. M. L. 

W very much I miss her. Her mercies were renewed 

to me every morning in cordial treatment — also in cakes and 
potatoes. Miriam invigorated me with her enthusiasm as a 
student and her adoring love of her father. John commanded 
my respect by his early rising, his devotion to his school and his 
interest in the meeting. As for my own boy — the matchless 
L lovely Mathew I mourn for him. I need him now; send him 

to me by express. I love him as my jewel of a boy. Tell him he 
must come on and be my boy. 

I "But I am working today for a new church having been in a 

committee on plans for hours. I expect to be in Bluefield 
for next Sunday. Do tell me things. 
"Yours very much in love." 






I 






He writes to his wife on February 1st from Fork Union: 

"I am over-run with company at all times and of all sorts. 
This I do not mind as it is what I live for." 

From Bluefield, W. Va., where he is holding meetings he, 
writes on February 6th: 

"My deep grief is that I do not seem to have as much converting 
power as I had in my earlier days. This may be owing to 
general conditions in part at least, but I charge it up against 
myself and groan over it. But I do not forget the grace that 
keeps me alive and gives me a chance and strength to work 
at all. . . . 



k 



BLUEFIELD 629 

"My eyes — or rather my eye — gives me trouble and keeps 
me from reading and makes it hard for me to write. I hope for a 
stenographer in a day or two. 

"I judge the folly is over but I almost think my 

work with the Academy is coming to an end." 

Ocasionally his Academy burdens — -in connection with the 
many other loads that he was carrying — would grow so heavy 
and grievous that he would think that he could not stand up 
under them any longer and yet, though his shoulders would 
often ache, his heart would rebel when he would come to the 
point of actual surrender. Dr. E. Z. Simmons, of China, wrote 
him that his new book had helped him to be a better man and 
missionary. But let us look in upon him at Bluefield. Mrs. 
Mabie, the gifted wife of the Bluefleld pastor thus gives a 
singularly interesting picture of Dr. Hatcher's visit: 

"One cold Saturday night in February, 1911, Mrs Fleshman 
of Appomattox was coming to Bluefield to visit her sons. Dr. 
Hatcher was on the train, also bound for Bluefield. They were 
acquaintances of long standing and in conversation he said, 
'I never dreaded a trip more in my life than this — to go to 
Bluefield — that wild mountain town in the dead of winter. 
I never have been to Bluefield and would not have gone now 
except that I felt so sorry for that poor Yankee boy who has 
come to live with the Southerners and if I can do anything 
in the world to cement the tie I will do it." 

This was the young minister whom he had "introduced" to 
the Virginia Association and had in kindly, humorous fashion 
twitted with being a "Yankee". Mrs. Mabie's story thus 
continues : 

"Mr. Mabie met him at the train with a machine and took 
him to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Easley, for years the first 
Baptist woman in Bluefield. She would not let any one have 
the honor of homing him while here, but during the two weeks 
of his stay he received seventeen invitations to dine out and 
accepted every one. . It was the happy privilege of Mr. 
Mabie and myself to share these invitations and visits with 



630 BLUEFIELD 

him. . . . No housewife ever asked him for her board 
without receiving many-fold compensation for her labor in the 
brilliant after dinner talk of which Dr. Hatcher was the center 
and circumference, — in fact the whole wheel of brilliant turns 
and rapid movement. . . . 

"...... One bleak rainy morning he came to the par- 
sonage and said, 'I am invited to dine with Cousin Tom Haw- 
kins, will you please direct me to the place. 7 I replied, 'That is 
V very simple, — three blocks east on Princeton Ave., and one 

block South on Bland Street'. He said, 'I don't know 
where Princeton Ave. is; I don't know where Bland St. 
is; I have no geographical sense; I never could find it in this 
world." 

"I then caught the idea that he wished me to pilot him, 
so I hastily donned rubbers, coat and umbrella and we started 
out. We had not gone far when he said, 'Mrs. Mabie you have 
a husband who brings things to pass' and then he said many 
cheering, comforting, complimentary things that are always 
sweet to the ears of the wife of that much slandered personage — 
a man in public life. Dr. Hatcher never received a kindness 
nor act of courtesy without immediately returning it with 
interest; he never allowed himself to remain in debt to his 

I friends, but kept them in bounteous store from the riches of 

his generous heart. 
' 'Another rainy night I went with him from the car to Mrs. 
Easley's. I asked Dr. Hatcher: 'Why dont you ever tell us 
about your family?' Instantly he answered, 'That is an agree- 
ment we have; no one member is ever to speak of another mem- 
ber to strangers'. I replied 'How is the world ever to know 
that you are blessed with wife and children if you never men- 
tion them." 

"He said, 'The world must find it out for itself.' But he did 
me the gracious honor of stepping over the barrier and he 
spoke tenderly and lovingly of each one. Upon another oc- 
casion he found that he had lost his handsome overcoat. He 
was much distressed and said, 'My girls gave me that coat; 
they certainly are very good to their old father." 

"I told him one day that he was just the age of my father. He 
looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, 'Write to that 
father of yours and tell him that I have my opinion of a man 
who does not know any more than to sojourn in this world 
for more than seventy years. . . ." 



BLUEFIELD 631 

"The distinguishing feature of Dr. Hatcher's meeting was his 
wonderful hold upon young men and boys. A row of boys on 
the front seat was the rule. He was simply irresistible; the 
boys could'nt stay away. Over fifty came into the church 
and many of them were youths just bursting into manhood and 
womanhood. Mr. Mabie always counted it the most blessed 
meeting of his ministry. . . 

"I fear the ideas I have suggested are very meager and will 
not be of much value. The trouble is, Dr. Hatcher was too 
great for his friends to measure." 

His correspondence in Bluefield was heavy. His stenographer 
at that place wrote me after his death that, if I desired it, 
she could write out again from her notes the letters which he had 
written while there. The following quotations are made from 
the letters which were sent me by this lady stenographer. 

These letters by Dr. Hatcher read as if he felt he was moving 
near the border line and might be summoned into the other 
world at any moment and as if he desired, therefore, to make 
each one as cheering and as stimulating as possible. It is an 
interesting picture, — that of him, now in his seventy-seventh 
year, sending out letters in every direction, as if he stood upon 
some pleasant, eminence and was seeking to scatter comfort to 
his comrades and to hearten them for their task. 

Let it be remembered that these, and other, letters which he 
wrote at Bluefield are available for use in this biography simply 
because the stenographer that wrote for him in Bluefield was 
thoughtful enough to send the copies. But he was a busy 
letter writer almost everywhere he went and these are merely 
specimens of the efforts at helpfulness which he was putting 
forth as he moved from point to point. To his old College 
friend, Dr. George W. Hyde of Missouri, he writes on Feb- 
ruary 7th : 

"I feel that I want to tell you that our friendship which 
began in the stormy days of the Civil War has never lost its 
freshness. My faith in you has been unmeasured and my 
affection for you has grown, though our meetings have been 
infrequent and rarely allowed any close soul communion. 



632 LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 

"Your quiet, unselfish life has commanded my admiration. 
I have had to walk so much in the glare of publicity that I have 
admired those who could be sober and thoughtful as you have 
always seemed to me to be. 

"The fine things you said about my last book gave me un- 
common pleasure. The book itself has had praise enough, even 
from the critics and the unsacred Press, and of course friends 
have been pleased to write me from everywhere about it. The 
\* book has struck a pace and has won a place in literature which 

\\ I did not expect to find and of course it has quickened my intel- 

lectual pride. 

"What, however, has pleased me far more is the note of 
comfort it has carried to many. I thank God that I could 
write a book of which it could be said that, while it was filled 
with personalities, it gave forth no voice of censure or repro- 
bation. Of course we all have our scraps and strains in a 
world so discordant as this and some of our scars never heal 
without leaving the seams of the hard strifes, but I am sure 
that you and I could take leave of this world and wave back 
a cheerful good evening and forget the ills and wrongs which 
have hit us. 

"I never meant to write reminiscences, but I never had that 

I mental independence which held me inflexibly to my purpose. 

My publisher whipped my last book out of me and he and my 
preacher son are scourging me to the writing of another book, 
which I suppose will be ready for the press by the beginning 
of Summer. I write neither for fortune nor for fame, for I have 
learned to live without either and when my end comes I will 
need neither." 

The new book, to which he refers in this letter has not yet 
been published. The Stories in it have been appearing in the 
Watchman — Examiner of New York and they are expected 
to be published in book from after the appearance of this 
biography. 

A pastor in Virginia in inviting him to preach the dedi- 
catory sermon for his new church had apparently asked him 
his charges for such a service. In his reply he says: 

"I believe that I have never on any occasion named the 
amount that I was to receive for my services. That I most 



LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 633 

cheerfully leave to the church feeling assured that whatever 
they do will be satisfactory to me. I will be far more anxious 
about what they will get out of me than I will be as what I will 
get out of them and on that score I have never had to complain 
of the treatment of my brethren who called me into their 
services." 

To Rev. Dr. A. W. Lamar of Sioux City he writes: 

I am at work now on another book, intended more especially 
for ministers, and designed more specifically to help them in 
their pulpit ministrations. 

" . . . May God have a blessing for you in every sermon 
you preach." 

To Rev. R. W. Sanders, of Greenville, S. C., he writes on 
the 16th the following letter which takes the reader "behind 
the scenes." 

"I would be an ingrate if I did not drop you a word in re- 
sponse to your genial and refreshing card. 

"I confess that my venture in the field of authorship was 
not under the nagging of the commercial spur. Of course this 
book, as yet, is on its first run and no word has passed between 
the publisher and myself as to its financial success. I judge 
that in due season it will bring something in the way of 
royalty. 

"The school at Fork Union, supposed to be a mine of gold 
to me, has never yielded me one copper of income though it 
has offered it to me several times, but the school has needed 
my help so much that I felt it was more necessary, if not more 
blessed, to give than receive, and much of what little comes my 
way goes into the life of that school in the way of helping very 
gifted and ambitious, needy boys. That is one of the choicest 
investments of my last days and serves to keep my heart 
young and my hands busy. I speak with a candor, not very 
usual in a letter like this, but provoked in this case by the 
affectionate and frank tone of your letter. 

"It must be glorious to live in Greenville and I rejoice that 
you have that pleasure in these days of your ripened prime. 
I read the Courier and my eyes kindle with friendly light 
whenever I hit upon anything from your pen." 



V 



634 LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 

The pastor at Clemson, S. C, was Rev. T. C. McCaul, one 
of his old Grace Street boys. He had mentioned him in a 
loving paragraph in the book, " Along the Trail etc." He 
received a letter from 'Torn" and in reply he writes on the 10th: 

"My Dear Tom, — . . . And so your eyes fell upon 
the brief paragraph in my new book in which is embalmed my 
love and memory of you. I am glad to have put it there and 
those who love me and read my book will know how I love you, 
but now that I have put it there, I want you to remember, my 
young lad, that you must live up to it. Solon said that he 
counted no man happy until he was dead, but I have counted 
you happy while you are living and have enshrined you in my 
book. I am glad the book gave you comfort and heartened 
you for the sterner tasks of the ministry. It is the hard things 
we have to do which do the most for us and count the most 
for others. 

"I rejoice in Tom II. You know what I think of Tom I., and 
while my thoughts of him are all of love, I hope Tom II. will 
far eclipse Tom I. in every element of greatness. Tell your 
wife I can't forget my happy visit to the parsonage at Orange, 
nor the bright and cheery way in which she treated me, and I 
trust that she will keep you straight and inspire you to great 
achievements." 

Rev. Robert H. Winfree of Chesterfield was the young 
ministerial friend with whom he had spent many days of happy 
fellowship. He loved Robert with a fatherly affection. 



"My Dear Robert, — If you would get stronger, as it is 
your solemn duty to do, and make up your mind like a gentle- 
man that you will live and labor twenty-five years longer, I 
would like for you to preach every other Sunday afternoon at 
Chesterfield, stick to old Mount Hermon, ride in the Bethel 
Chariot and bring things to pass at Midlothian. That would 
pull the sweat out of you and make a new man of you. 

"It has been two months since I saw you and I am engaged 
for March. That puts our contacts too far apart. We must 
get closer together and tighten the ties until the time of my 
going comes. Give my love to ever dear Mrs. Winfree. I 
write her name high on the roll of friendship and, as for you, 
you are the joy of my soul. 

"As ever and even more so." 



LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 635 

The earlier pages of this biography tells how in the Summer 
of 1866, at a meeting at Hopeful church in Louisa County, he 
told a young man that he believed the reason he would not 
become a christian was that he was afraid he would have to 
preach the gospel and he secured his promise that he would, that 
night on his knees, either surrender to Christ or else burn his 
Bible and abandon Christianity. The next morning the young 
man made his public confession of Christ and soon started for 
the Seminary. For many, many years this man Rev. Dr. W. 
Carter Lindsay, had been the pastor of the First Baptist 
Church in Columbia, S. C, and was called the Nestor of South 
Carolina Baptists. Dr. Hatcher wrote him the following letter 
from Bluefield: 

"My Beloved Friend, — From the far away day when I 
gave you the glad hand at Hopeful on the morning when you 
first declared your allegiance to Christ, I have loved you and all 
that pertained to you has been of concern to me. 

"I feel a certain pride of seniority about you, a little paternal 
pride in my relationship to you and ever so much joy in the 
honorable career that you have had. 

"With the best wishes of a fifty-year friendship I greet you 
and wish you peace and honor in this world and glory in the 
other." 

This letter brought the following reply from Dr. Lindsay: 

"Columbia, S. C, February 16th ; 1911. 

"My Dear Bro. Hatcher, — Your letter juicy as an orange 
and sweet as your dear old heart comes like music across water. 
You have never left my field of vision since that natal day in old 
Hopeful and will never leave it either on this or the other side 
of the so-called great Divide. I have a million things to talk 
to you about but cant write. So come and stay a month. 

"Yes the parsonage and full salary for life is good and unusual 
provision by the church — but not when you know the church. , 



"From the top of 71 years (yesterday) I send my heart 
freighted with a half century of love. 

"W. C. Lindsay." 



636 LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 

He writes on the 11th to Rev. C. E. Burts: 

"My Beloved Friend, — I have no business on earth with 
you except to say that I love you with a devotion that deepens 
steadily; I love your wife as much as I love you, and as much 
more as she is more lovely than you, and as for Charles II, 
my brave and beautiful Charles, I recall now my glimpse 
of him in Baltimore. He looked the grand little chap that he is 
and my soul knit to him. The precious little scamp actually 
loved me before he knew what loving was and that, of course, 
made me love him. 

"I hope things go well with you, and no matter which way 
they go I am fixed in the belief that you will never come out 
of South Carolina till you scale the heights of the invisible 
world and take citizenship in the Delectable City. 

" There is little need to write anything about myself. I 
may be permitted to report that I am still living, and though the 
only crop which I am now growing is a crop of infirmities, I 
find it pleasant to live. 

"My thoughts run much of late on book making." 

To his ever dear friend Dr. Charles H. Ryland he writes: 

"My Dear Charles, — It has been my reproach that I did 
not at once write to you after reading carefully your address 
at the Seminary in Louisville. I must confess that your output 
on that occasion was to me one of the most interesting and 
refreshing things that has come under my eye for ever so long. 

"I was surprised that you could command, either by your 
memory or imagination, such a rich store of historical and per- 
sonal incident, and you command my admiration by the adroit 
and practised manner in which you wove these things into an 
address. I read every word of it and I went back over some 
of it and read it again and got ever so much rejuvenation and 
joy out of it. 

"I said at the alumni meeting in Roanoke in the way of 
pleasantry that you and Shipman are always looking down on 
me from supercilious heights because I had never been to the 
Seminary. That was purely a joke, born of the occasion and 
dying with it, but after your address I am free to say that you 
have a right to look down on me. The Seminary did impersish- 
able things for you and helped you up so much that I will 
recognize your superiority and will accept thankfully the 
downward look of my ever noble and cherished friend. 



LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 637 

"I have always had something against you and never felt 
it so keenly since I read that address. I have told you that 
your pen was grudging and reluctant ; you have seemed to have 
no sense of obligation to write and the result is that you have 
written nothing as compared with what you can write and which 
the people would gladly read if you would write. 

"I hope they are pulling you out of the treadmill of your 
old office and giving you ample provision for comparative 
leisure and in that way opening to you the opportunity of 
speaking to the people more than you have in the past. Why 
not write a book, a book embodying your thoughts which 
have been born along the way and which have ripened with 
your years. I find that people want something out of the life 
of men whom they believe in. Even in my own little trial at 
authorship of late I have found that my pen is far more power- 
ful than my voice, and surely there is an audience on the earth 
awaiting any message that you would be willing to give." 

To Dr. R. M. Inlow, pastor of the First Baptist Church of 
Nashville, Tenn., he writes: 

"In the crash and confusion of Xmas time I failed to answer 
your lovely letter. . . I feel that God has given you the 
mastery and freedom of your great pastorate and that makes me 
rejoice greatly. 

"And yet it occurs to me that I have somewhat against 

you. I went to J L at the Southern Baptist 

Convention and asked him to make you reply to the address 
of welcome and he told me that he was going to do it. He 
looked up another man at once, one of my own children — Hurt 

of Arkansas. I collared L — : on the spot and asked him 

how about Inlow, and he told me that you would not do it. 
Of course you had a right to decline but I did not want you to 
decline. I wanted the people to see you and to hear you, but 
never mind, you do as you please and work out your own destiny. 

"There is one thing, however, you can't do, I defy you to 
do it, and that is to keep me from thinking you are a royally 
fine fellow and I hope you will not stop till you stand on the 
white hills of human glory. 

"Show your wife what I told you about not making that 
speech and ask her to please be on my side about it. Whenever 
you get lonesome and feel that you have no friends, then, write 
to one friend that you have who does not amount to much." 



if 



638 LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 

He received a letter from Mr. Henry Schmelz of Hampton 
regarding Mr. Schmelz's brother George who had recently 
died and who until his death had been the teacher of one of the 
largest men's classes in Virginia. He replies as follows: 

"It seems that the world grew dark when George died, but 
the love which breathes in your letter brings back much of the 
light. 

"Let us get closer together and let us confer together, let 
us cheer and inspire each other — that is, for the little while that 
I am allowed to stay on this side of the river. 

"I write more especially to express my joy that you have 
taken George's Bible class; that takes from me a great anx- 
iety — a dread lest the masterpiece of George's life should sud- 
denly crumble to pieces. I believe that you are the man to 
make it greater than even George ever made it ; you are capable 
of it ; you always do your best in whatever you undertake, and 
you have in George's record an adequate inspiration to move 
you forward with the task. 

"If you find at any time and in any way I can ever help you 
about that class, command me; I will go to Hampton at any 
possible time if there is anything that I could possibly do to 
inspire the class to greater things. Simplify your life as far as 
you can and concentrate your forces on that class ; it is a work 
for a master hand and will call out the best of your brains and 
of your soul; it willl make you a greater and a happier man just 
in proportion to the ardor and patience with which you give to 
it your leadership and your love. 

I "I thank you for opening the gates of your hospitality; 

it looks as if I have scant time for sociability. I go nowhere 
except where work calls me and it calls me down many ways into 
which I can't enter, but I hope the Lord will open the way to 
go to Hampton to see you." 

He writes regarding the Academy, "I have been wishing for 
some time that things could come to the stage where I could 
trust the Academy to live without me, — a thing which it will 
have to do any how in a little while, or not live at all." 

His friendships included in their happy circle men in many 
walks of life. There was a brilliant lawyer, whom he had met 
while holding meetings in another state. This gentleman, much 



LETTERS WRITTEN AT BLUEFIELD 639 

younger than he, was not a christian and to him Dr. Hatcher 
writes from Bluefield — from which place all the letters in this 
series were written: 

"My Dear Tom, — I can't hold out any longer. My thoughts 
run after you in the day and watch around you at night. You 
have an undisputed seat in the castle of my life and I shall 
cherish you as long as I live. 

"When yesterday I got a letter from Dr. Wood telling me 
that he saw you in his congregation every Sunday morning, my 
heart grew warm and tender towards you. It makes me feel 
that you are coming; I feel truly that the hand of God is upon 
you and that you are to be one of God's leaders yet. I do not 
write to upbraid you, or lecture you, but simply to tell you that 
you live in my heart and I can't be happy in my thoughts 
about you till I hear the good news. Your heart is filled with 
good convictions, and if you will follow them they will in a 
little while bring you into the light. 

"Your place is among Christians and not among the scep- 
tical and ignoble. I am going to keep my ear to the ground 
until it catches the joyful news. I think I speak truthfully 
when I say that I am more interested in your conversion than 
in that of any other man in the world. Don't wait until you join 
the church to write to me, but do not make it long before you 
write to me that you have joined the church. 

"Do not write to me unless you feel like it but keep on loving 
me as I really believe you do, but friendship is a game at 
which I somehow feel that I can usually beat the other fellow. 
My soul was made for comradeship and when I run up on a 
fellow like you, I put my grappling hooks in him down to the 
marrow of his bones, but I am sure you think far more of me 
than I am worthy of, and that is all that I ask." 

In reply, his lawyer friend wrote as follows : 

"My Dear Friend, Guide and Counselor, — When I asked 
John Henry Cammack where I should direct a letter to you 
he replied in that positive, breezy way of his, 'Why Sir, you 
might direct it to Wm. E. Hatcher, Virginia, and he would 
receive it; he is that well known in Virginia.' I am directing 
this letter, however, to the Post Office of your pet institution, 
Fork Union, where that Academy stands and for unnumbered 



640 HIS BELOVED LAWYER FRIEND 

years, let us hope, will stand as one of the monuments of your 
faithful work for your state and country and for man. 

"Of course you need not to be told how much I prize your letter 
and how much I shall prize it to the end of my days, for you are 
one of the men who know. I realize full well how strenous and 
faithful your labors are in this world, how day by day, you give 
the energies of your life freely and fervently to christian civ- 
ilization and yet I am selfish enough to place this added taxa- 
tion upon you ; you have put your hand to the plow in the way 
of our personal friendship and love and you must not turn 
\\ back, that is to say you must write letters to me even though 

their writing becomes an irksome task to you. . . ." 

This letter probably reached him upon his return to Fork 
Union, and while at Charlottesville he wrote his friend the fol- 
lowing reply: 

"My own Dear Tom, — Your letter was a thing of beauty. 
It had to me the charm of a poem. I read it with unfeigned 
joy, and a moisture was on my eyelids as I read. It would be 
impossible for me to express my appreciation of you; I love 
you with a great, hot, trusting, admiring affection. In some 
way, you appeal to the depths of my soul. There are few men 
of whom I think so much, or with such vast and deepening 
interest. Your life has crept into me and taken root in a dozen 
spots, and I feel that we have been together for ever, — at any 
rate, we will be together for ever and ever. I am pleased 
with myself in one point, at least, which concerns you. You 
have not gone so far in the way of faith as I feel you must go 
and will go, but I do not get impatient with you; my soul 
waits on you and watches for your coming. I am a little afraid; 
I must confess that I get uneasy lest the tide should bear me 
out before I should see you cross the bar coming in. If I was 
dying, and my mind was clear, I would say to myself, 'Tom 
will come after awhile.' If you could hasten your coming and 
let me enjoy it before I go, I do not know whether I would like 
you any better; but I would like to see you come in and have 
a while to enjoy it. There are some restraining ties in your 
life which I do not understand; some points about which I do 
not know how to help you. I feel sorry about it. Possibly 
you might tell me more about yourself some time, and we may 
be able to get closer together; and, if it should be that way, I 
shall be wonderfully glad, 
t 



HIS BELOVED LAWYER FRIEND 641 

"I need give you no news; it would hardly interest you. And 
yet you ought to know that I had a glorious revival in Blue- 
field; a gracious meeting at Fork Union, in which many of the 
Cadets were saved; now I am closing a good meeting with the 
First church in Charlottesville; and this with my seventy- 
six years on my shoulders and my love of God, and with you, 
Tom, in my heart, I am pulling along as happy as I can be; but 
not so happy, Tom, not so happy, Tom as I am going to be 
when you step over the line and I hail you as a brother in 
Jesus Christ. 

"Do not forget me; now and then write a letter, and let us 
stick together with the tenacity of an ever-growing friendship. 

"I am, dear Tom, a believer in you." 

In writing to a friend about his joy in "book making" he 

says : 

"I do not know that I have ever gotten as much assurance 
of my usefulness in the pulpit as comes to me in regard to the 
book. I am working on another and probably if life and 
strength continue there may be two or three more before my 
pen is set at liberty. . . And yet I cant live without con- 
tact with the people." 

To literary men authorship sometimes brings rich delight. 
Throughout his ministerial life, Dr. Hatcher had been helping 
people by his sermons. But his book opened a new fountain 
in his soul. This book was like a courier, who having gathered 
up treasures along the trail of his friendly years was carrying 
them into almost every country of earth and the thought was 
delightful to him that while with his own lips he was proclaim- 
ing the gospel there was also his books that were busy at the 
same task. To Rev. J. M. Beadles he writes: 

"About the best that I can say of the book is that I am re- 
ceiving almost every day letters from many states and scores 
of our preachers which tell me of the comfort and spiritual 
exaltation which the book brings to them. . . . but 
poorly as I do it the delight of my life is to preach and I can't 
recover from the ever-flaming passion for souls. To save the 
people is the heavenliest thing of all the earth. . . . 



642 ACADEMY BURDENS 

"The Academy flourishes though I find it an increasing bur- 
den on my shoulders and you need not wonder if it should 
come to you before very long that I have decided to let other 
shoulders ache and groan under its weight." 

Regarding his meetings in Bluefield the Herald says: "The 
most far reaching meeting ever held in the city was the one 
in which Dr. Hatcher aided Dr. Mabie." 






I 



CHAPTER XLIII 
1911 

CONTINUOUS ACTIVITIES. MEETINGS AT POCOMOKE. ADDRESS AT 
MEREDITH COLLEGE. BAPTIST WORLD ALLIANCE. CORRES- 
PONDENCE. HIS ENEMIES. BALTIMORE STATE MIS- 
SION BANQUET. ADDRESS BEFORE COLLEGE 
TRUSTEES. OPTIMISM. OLD AGE. 

From Charlottesville where he was holding meetings — 
after his meeting with the cadets at the Academy — he writes 
that his ailments were still oppressing him and then he adds 
"Work is my most effective medicine." 

"What a life you are leading" writes Dr. C. H. Ryland "I 
call it strenuous. I could not understand it if I were to try 
a year. . . Please take care of yourself old boy." Mr. 
W. W. Baker, member of the Legislature, writes him: 

"If there has been any good influences exerted in the slips 
and slides of my life, they can be traced to the influences 
exerted by Dr. W. E. Hatcher." 

He received a striking letter from Boston: 

"My Dear Dr. Hatcher, — I have just been to the Public 
Library and found there your 'Along the Trail of the Friendly 
Years.' 

"A newspaper of a few days ago states that you had just 
passed your 76 birthday. I have not quite attained my 70th 
and feel sometimes that my life has been useless and has nearly 
reached its limit. Yet you have written the two most readable 
books in the language since you were my age, — 'John Jasper' 
and 'Along the Trail of the Friendly Years'. I repeat the long 

643 



644 LETTER TO ORIE 

title because I like it. It gives one a feeling of a long Summer 
melody and harmony. 

"Not that the book shows your life to have been all music — 
you have had your strenuous times as well as the rest of us. 

"You remember the king's remark to Johnson, — having 
told Dr. Johnson that he hoped he would write more and John- 
son having replied that he thought that he had written enough, 
the king instantly said, 'I should have thought so also had 
you not written so well. 
/, "With great respect, 

"Yours Sincerely, 

"E. E. Lewis." 

To Orie at Bryn Mawr he writes on March 14th: 

"I blush with guilt. So full is my slate with meetings dedi- 
cations and things and things that not a day of rest or social 
indulgence is left me. It is sorrow indeed not to come. My 
love of work must be abnormal for I am always welcoming 
calls and eagerly making engagements. So Bryn Mawr and 
three as lovely girls as any common father ever had must be 
regretfully denied. It is a cut in my heart to do it. . . . 

"Thanks and love to you whom I love so much and to my 
other two ever enshrined in my heart. 

"As ever and forever." 

His grandson will ever prize the following letter: 

"Charlottesville, Va., March, 16th, 1911. 
"Master William E. Hatcher, Jr., 

"Baltimore, Md.: 
"My Dear Ever Cherished Boy, — ... I must thank 
heaven that I have a grandson and such a grandson as you are. 
In all the world you are the only one who bears my name. I am 
very fond of my name; they have called me William E. Hatcher 
for nearly seventy-seven years and for sixty-six years of that 
time I have had the name all to myself and then you began 
to wear the name. On all the earth, so far as I know, you are 
the only living being who dares to wear my name and to wear 
it as a name which you took from me. It makes me really 
proud that you have my name. Wherever you go it tells that 
you and I are linked very close; we have exactly the same name. 






CHARLOTTESVILLE 645 

After awhile I will have no further use for the name and then it 
will be yours all to your self. I hope to leave it to you with 
out any bad scratches on it and I have a great hope that you 
will make it greater and more honorable than it has ever been, 

"I have great ambitions for you; I desire that you will cul- 
tivate among other good habits the habit of writing. Learn 
all about words, their different shades of meaning and write 
sentences with big words in them and learn to use the words 
in just exactly their right meaning. Your father has written 
several books and your grandfather has played a little at book 
making, but you must tower far above both of us and write 
books that will be read all around the world. 

One morning this week I opened my mail and there were 
three letters in it about one of my books, one, from a great 
preacher in Memphis, Tenn; one, from a learned Judge of 
Dakota but written from Boston, where he is spending the 
winter and one from Canton, China where Ah Fong came from. 
That will do fairly well for the old grandfather, but when the 
grandson becomes a book-writer of forty years to come, he 
must on some one morning get letters from several continents 
telling him what great books he has written. 

"Take care of your health and run, jump, wrestle, play ball, 
turn somersaults, harden your muscles be too brave to be 
afraid, too truthful to hide anything and above all fear God. 
"Very lovingly, 

"William E. Hatcher." 

To his wife he writes on March 18th, from Charlottesville: 

". . . I spend my mornings in writing, go out to dinner, 
hold the afternoon service, snatch a short nap before supper, 
hold the night meeting, talk some after I get home, then write 
some before I go to bed and often write before breakfast. . . 
This is Saturday morning and my burdens are exceptionably 
heavy today, so I bid you good bye with all best wishes and 
hope to see you and the little Baltimore tribe before another 
full moon." 

A pastor in one of the lower counties of the state writes him : 

"As the days and years come and go I cease not to thank 
God for your life ; for its wide and varied influence for good and 
for the help it has been to poor me. I cannot express to you 



u 



646 SOUTH BOSTON 

how much I do appreciate your friendship and kindly feeling 
for me through these many years. . . I can't see how a man 
with the years of hard work behind him that you have, can be 
so elastic of step, so vigorous in mind, so bright and cheering 
in spirit as you are. But, thank God, time is dealing with you 
gently. Virginia Baptists need your ripe experience and wise 
counsels for many years to come yet." 

From South Boston, Va., where he is holding meetings he 
writes: 

"I have four services tomorrow three sermons and the Sunday 
School. . . I have nothing to fear in South Boston except 
my own folly and the hospitality of the people." He seems as 
determined as ever that his final summons, when it comes, shall 
catch him in the harvest field with sickle in hand. 

"I am rather bewildered by my Southern invitations to 
hold meetings, but as yet I havn't decided to accept any of them. 
My dedication engagements are multiplying and I am almost 
tempted to do nothing else during the Summer months. I feel 
that I ought to finish my next book during the Summer and 
get well under way my two others which perhaps will never be 
finished." 

At South Boston we find the physician seeking to patch him 
up as he is busy in the meetings. He writes : 

"I am suffering with one of the most unmannered and ag- 
gravating colds that I have had for years. It has nearly blocked 
up my throat, but the meeting rolls on gloriously indeed. . . 
With the loss of one afternoon sermon I have stuck to my post. 
I am to see the Doctor twice today, hold services, answer a 
lot of letters and work on my Home Board manuscript which 
rides me like a night mare. ... I am in mortal dread 
of indulging my appetite at the expense of my health." 



"Fork Union, April 3rd, 1911. 
"Dear Jennie, — I got home today about as much frazzled as 
ever in my busy beat along the way. I had five services yes- 
terday at South Boston, took train at 2:42 A. M. slept half 
hour on the road, reached Richmond at 6:50 this morning, 



l\« 



POCOMOKE 647 

had breakfast at Murphy's with Boatwright, had talks with 
two other men, caught 10 A. M. train, came from Bremo with 
a lame horse in the rain and am now working out a grievous 
tangle in my April engagements. 

". . . . Meanwhile I hope to get the bothers of Faculty 
for Academy in some shape. . . 

"P. S. — Thanks (socks full of them) for the bundle of nice 
things." 

His mention of breakfast at Murphy's reminds us of his 
fondness for taking his meals at that hotel. One morning on the 
street car a gentleman asked him where he was going so early. 

"To Murphy's for breakfast" he replied. 

"I go to 's restaurant. You ought to go there." 

"If a man is'nt hungry, that restaurant is a very good place 
to go to," said Dr. Hatcher. 

He visited us in Baltimore where he baptized his grandson 
William E. Hatcher, Jr. at the Eutaw Place Baptist Church. 
From Baltimore he went to a little town in a corner of the 
Eastern Shore of Maryland and as he stepped aboard the train 
and bade me good bye, he said, "Well, I am going over to 
Pocomoke; I thought I might be of some cheer and help to dear 
old John" (Rev. John W. Hundley). His manner of saying 
it unconsciously revealed to me in a flash the kindly motive 
that was sending him on that arduous, tedious trip. Whatever 
thoughts I may have had up to that time as to his Pocomoke 
meetings, I came away from the depot saying to myself, "That's 
why he is picking his way over to that distant town. He thinks 
that he may be able to put some sunlight into the life of his old 
ministerial friend." After the Pocomoke visit Mr. Hundley 
writes to him: 

". . . Your stay in my home has been to me (and all of 
us) one of the sweetest and most blessed experiences of my 
whole life. . . I may never again enjoy a repetition of this 
experience but the memory of it will last until we meet again 
in our father's house on high." 






648 HELPFULNESS 

Regarding Dr. Hatcher's passion for cheering and helping 
his brethren Dr. C. H. Dodd writes: 

" There was something almost riotous in his enthusiasm 
for his kind. It carried him into all sorts of nerve wrecking 
efforts to please and serve; it was characterized by such pains 
to help and such exercises of kindness as marked the Good 
Samaritan. Indeed, he epitomized our Lord's portrait of the 
Christian neighbor." 

Dr. J. M. Frost tells of Dr. Hatcher's kindly helpfulness 
a few years before this: 

"We met one evening by agreement as our paths had to 
cross by chance at Culpeper. He had been all day in an As- 
sociation and yet he spent nearly all night with me at the hotel 
going through the manuscript of 'The Moral Dignity of Baptism' 
and then with the early morning each went his way to his daily 
task. How patient he was, how untiring, how faithful, how 
helpful in every way. That was not the first time nor the last. 
His services were ever at my call and fellowship with him was 
an unbroken joy. He was all this to hundreds and thousands." 

Before leaving Pocomoke in April he had written the fol- 
lowing letter to Dr. M. L. Wood: 

"My ever-beloved, — I have preached practically one hun- 
dred and forty (140) times since the opening of the year. 
As for the quality of the performance I wish to remain dis- 
tinctly dumb, but so far as the amount of the work is con- 
cerned I am willing to stand up and be examined — very likely 
I would be in danger of being condemned even upon the amount 
of such preaching as I have done and that too entirely apart 
from the quality of it. I have stood it wonderfully. . . . 

"My cares at Fork Union multiply and they load me down. 

"Give my love to all the children and embrace Matthew 
Leland [M. L. W's boy] and tell him I think he is one of the 
best friends I have on earth. 

At the bottom of the page Mr. Hundley adds this footnote, 

"I have the dear of a man with me and you know what a 
treat that is." 



THE SOUTHERN BAPTIST CONVENTION 649 

Soon after he left Pocomoke Mr. Hundley writes him : 

"Have you fully decided to go to the Southern Baptist Con- 
vention. I think you ought to go and let them put the crown 
upon your head as president of the great Convention, an honor 
you richly deserve and one that Southern Baptists will gladly 
confer if you will give them the opportunity." 

Many of the leading members of the Convention had ex- 
pressed their desire that he should be made president of the 
Southern Baptist Convention at its next meeting in Florida, 
but his physical ailments and especially the "Academy com- 
plications" blocked his way and prevented his going to the 
Convention. He writes on May 11th: 

"I am really on the verge of not going to the Convention 
in Florida. My eyes and knees are troubling me. What is 
even worse is that we have the gravest sort of complications 
in the Academy, — the very worst ever." 

"God bless you noble Soldier of Jesus Christ" writes Rev. 
J. J. Wicker, "and may these evening years pass very slowly. 
The world has been greatly enriched by your illustrious life 
and I count it a real privilege to tell you that for more than a 
score of years your personality and your pen have helped me to 
be a better minister of Jesus Christ." 

Meredith College at Raleigh, N. C. secured him for the 
Baccalaureate sermon and he thus writes me concerning his 
visit : 

"I had an epoch of glory in my Raleigh trip. They said the 
old gentleman knocked things — but they were simply trying 
to play on the credulity of your very ancient and unworthy 
parent. 

"I am unwell in several suburban sections of any corpor- 
osity. . . ." 

The president of the above-mentioned College, Dr. R. T. 
Vann, wrote him on his return from Raleigh the following: 



650 NANCY ALMOND WITT 

"My Dear old Soldier, — I ought to say, old Commander, 
I know; but you have such a knack of filling the chaps with a 
thrill of comradeship that they forget. 

"I have no business in writing this except to tell you how 
heartily we enjoyed you. According to the Almanac and the 
family record you are not so young as you once were. But 
neither of these seems to cut any ice with you. I never heard you 
do better. Hang the Almanac and the family records. If 
you persist in behaving as you have been doing for the last 
fifty of sixty years you may look for another summons before 
long to appear here and stand trial again. God's best blessings 
on you and may it please him to keep you out of heaven for 
twenty-five years more." 

A letter reached him announcing the birth of little Miss 
Nancy Almond Witt whose happy parents he had united in 
marriage a few years before. He dropped his tasks and sends 
on June 10th the following letter to the little "new arrival". 

"My Dear Cousin Nancy, — I am happy, indeed, to learn 
of your safe arrival on this terrestrial globe on June 7th, 1911. 
There was a distinct need for you, and I am sure that you 
will prove yourself worthy of your calling. You are expected 
to keep your father and mother under good control and on good 
terms with each other. You are also expected to make your- 
self active in keeping them awake at night and to demand their 
attention always when it suits them least to give it. Remember 
that one of your first duties is to have colic and to advertise 
your arrival among the neighbors by the exercise of your vocal 
organs. You will hear lots of nonsense from your kindred and 
neighbors, some vowing that you are the exact image of your 
father, others mendaciously vowing that you are the exact 
picture of your mother, all of them declaring that you are 
beautiful, and a few of the wisest people in the community 
will pronounce you "the cutest thing" they have ever seen. 

"I hope to visit you before very long, and I very cordially 
invite you to come down to see me. I am old enough now to be 
in my second childhood, and so you and I can be chums. Ask 
your father and mother to put this letter away and read it to 
you on the day that you are seven years old, and after you 
have heard it read I hope that you will give yourself fully 
unto God, your Maker and your Redeemer. This is written 



THE BAPTIST WORLD ALLIANCE 651 

by the man who united in marriage your father and mother, 
who loved your grandmother as if she were his own daughter, 
who knew your great-grandmother, and also your great- great- 
grandmother, and who hopes that you will be the greatest 
of all the great ones in the honorable house to which you belong.'' 

He attended in the month of June the meeting in Philadelphia 
of the Baptist World Alliance. From all parts of the earth 
came the Baptist representatives to Philadelphia. He reveled 
in the meetings, and in the fellowships with the brethren. He 
was given a seat at the front above the pulpit platform where 
he could easily see and hear and it was to him a spiritual feast. 
He had been asked to speak for the South at the Roll Call of the 
Nations. It was a memorable scene. He spoke his brief 
message and then called upon the Southern delegates (and they 
were a small army) to stand and sing. He struck up his favor- 
ite hymn, " We'll work till Jesus comes" and in mighty volume 
it rolled from their lips. Probably the crowning session of the 
Convention was on the morning when the Russian Baptist 
preachers, who bore upon their bodies the scars of their perse- 
cutions, were introduced to the vast audience, after which an 
appeal was made to the audience for funds to establish in 
Europe a Theological Seminary for the Russian Baptists. Dr. 
F. B. Meyer, of London, who presided over this part of the 
service, after presenting the matter to the audience, said, 
" Where is Dr. Hatcher? I want him to come and take this 
collection. " 

He stepped upon the platform and began with the words, 
"Surely if heaven ever interposed to prepare an occasion for a 
collection we have witnessed such preparation here this morn- 
ing." He spoke a few further words and then made the call 
for subscriptions and they began to come; they came in such 
rapid and multitudinous fashion that it kept not only Dr. 
Hatcher busy receiving them but also Dr. Meyer and Ex- 
Governor E. W. Stephens who was pressed into service. 

When he was not in the meeting he was busy greeting friends 
from far and near. 



652 THE COSSACK 

"What I heard and saw at the Alliance" he writes in the 
Standard, "put new vigor and hopefulness into my soul. I not 
only believe in the doctrines of the Baptists, but I believe in the 
future of the Baptists more than I ever did. 

"When the roll call of the nations came at the Alliance 
and I saw representatives from over sixty different kingdoms 
and countries, saw how they felt and saw exactly how I felt 
and believed as they did I realized that the Baptists were out 
on the highway of life and were called to a world wide work." 

He was greatly impressed by the sight of one of the old 
Russian Baptist heroes, Rev. Fedot Petrovidtch Kostromin, 
a minister who had suffered fearful persecutions and who was 
one of those who spoke before the Alliance. He penned a 
rich tribute to the old man which was published in "Modern 
Baptist Heroes and Martyrs," edited by Dr. J. N. Prestridge, 
1911. He describes the old hero's appearance as he came for- 
ward and addressed the Alliance. 

A few paragraphs of the tribute are quoted here: 

"My first sight of him was a revelation; his serious face was 
his biography and his voice spoke nothing that I understood 
and yet in some way they told me of sorrows which could 
never be fully told. He had the look of a martyr, who as 
yet had no sense of being one. As a fact our Russian brother 
broke in upon us in no conspicuous way; indeed, he limped 
in, as one who had almost forgotten himself. Already the 
Russian exhibit, if we may speak of it as such, under the 
high-strung and magnetic Shakespeare, had already filled us 
with an overflowing wonder. For my part I thought that 
the strain was about over and was preparing to take my 
breath and cool down. It did not stir me when a snowy- 
haired patriot with noiseless feet strode down from the gallery 
to the platform, nor can it be said that this old gentleman was 
presented with any special intent to create a sensation. For 
my own part I am a little lost to know how it all happened. 
Fact after fact dropped out concerning the man and each fact 
was like a pearl and all the facts together made a wondrous 
string of pearls and before we knew it we were transfixed 
with the conviction that there was before us one of God's 
great men. 



THE COSSACK 653 

To begin with it fell out that this old gentleman, so quiet 
and unassuming, was a Russian Cossack and that, of course, 
marked him as tough of texture, born to fight and trained to 
die rather than run away. 

These attributes were chiseled into the old face and the old 
face was so fine and even lovely that I right there recast several 
of my old notions of the Cossacks and almost felt willing to be 
one if I could only be of the Kostromin type. 

It added much to the charm of the moment when the fact 
came out that this gnarled old Russian had once been a fanatical 
adherent of the Greek Church and that, too, of the most 
destructive and intolerant sort. In those days he had a religion 
which delighted to extinguish the other man who thought 
not as he did. He found in the Baptists of his country the 
very objects which his cruelty could find the fiercest joy in 
crushing and destroying. He looked like a lion that was 
once wild and eager for blood, but had been tamed for domestic 
service, but you could recognize his type at once, his zeal 
was that of the bigot and he would have hailed Saul of Tarsus 
as a comrade in playing havoc with the friends of the Nazarene. 
It was hard to tell it on Kostromin, but the fact came out that 
he was once a desparate foe of his Russian brethren. He 
had that blind and vindictive sincerity which caused him to 
feel that the way to please God was to extinguish those who 
did not believe as he did. I took a cold look at the old man 
and felt a momentary resentment. 

But very soon I came to myself. I recalled that history 
brings to us ample proof that the Lord takes an economic 
interest in men who are notably effective in trying to overturn 
the truth. He sees in them a nerve and a vigor which, if 
seasoned with his own grace, would do much to help His 
own Kingdom. It is no rare thing for the Spirit of God to 
invade the domain of Satan and choose some of his stalwart 
leaders and bring them over for service in the Kingdom of 
Light. That was the way that Paul was brought in and we 
found out that same Thursday that Kostromin was also 
brought in that way." 

But the Alliance is over and he sets forth again upon his 
rounds. He writes on July 6th: 

"I slipped away and spent the fourth of July at the Trustee 
meeting at Salem. That trip chopped me up considerably, 



I 



654 F. L. HARDY 

requiring me to get up two mornings about 5:30 to catch the 
train and poured heat into me from all points of the compass. 
"Beginning with the third Sunday I have dedications straight 
along for four Sundays, with several others trying to fix their 
days. . . ." 

This was his very life, — ever traveling and preaching and 
working, and all that he asked was that he might be permitted 
to keep up this busy programme until the moment of his 
final going. Rev. F. L. Hardy of Indiana writes him in July: 

"I want to tell you how you influenced me to enter the 
ministry. Some 16 years ago while living in Salem, Va., I 
entered a contest for a medal given by the W. C. T. U. The 
contest was held in the Salem Presbyterian church. . . You 
came with Dr. Taylor [Baptist pastor] to hear the contest. 
The prize was given to me, being delivered by one of the Salem 
lawyers. At the close you came to the front and Dr. Taylor 
I introduced you to each one of the six boys. You placed your 

arm around me and drawing me to your side said, 'Frank that 
was great; now the next step is Richmond College and then the 
ministry.' I made no reply but your word had hit the mark. 
You were the first preacher to encourage me to enter the great 
work that I am now engaged in. You will be glad to know 
that I am pastor of a church with 477 members in a little city 
of 10,000. We have been here for nineteen months in which 
time we have received 104 into the church and have raised 
over $1100 for missions. During this time I have taken my 
degree from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. . 

. . I simply state the above to let you know that God is 
using the boy you started in the work. On August 27th and 
Sept. 3rd I am to supply your old church Grace Street. . . 
"Your Son in the ministry, 

"F. L. Hardy." 

I wrote him regarding my thoughts of building me a home 
and he wrote me in reply: 

". . . When I undertook my first building enterprise — 
which was 608 West Grace — I banished my family for six 
months and saved $600 by it. . . . 

"Your letter puts me to thinking, ... I am anxious 



A DANGEROUS SYMPTOM 655 

to see the matter from the beginning to the finish. . . Our 
last talk indicated on your part what seemed to me at least 
quite a stalwart purpose not to stay much longer in Baltimore. 
If you are to make a change you would find it very embar- 
rassing to hold your property or to carry your debt during the 
interim and the expenses of the change. 
'Think this over. ..." 

He speaks in his next letter of his fattening, — a dangerous 
symptom it was. 

"My Dear Anna, — Your surprisingly sweet letter came 
yesterday. You have been all that a daughter could be to 
me since you entered my family and my only regret that I 
have ever had in connection with you has been that I could 
add so little to your happiness. . . . 

"Tell Eldridge that I had a great day at old Chesterfield 
Church and told them about my grandfather Jeremiah, and 
also about my son, with myself slipped in between them, and 
all of us taking part in the Baptist work in Chesterfield. I 
drew it mild however so far as the part the Hatchers had taken. 
I was making a speech on the Baptist history of Chesterfield. 

"I have fattened up until I am almost a reproach to the 
family, but my health seems quite good." 

His seventy-seventh birthday draws near as he writes to 
President Bryan, of Colgate University: 

"I will not torment you with sentimental letters today. 
All I ask is that you will greet Mrs. Bryan and tell her that she 
is not only worthy of her husband, but worthy of a better one 
and, as for the three domestic jewels, my heart warms towards 
every one of them as I think of them. Today I can report 
myself in excellent health and on next Tuesday, if I am alive, 
there will be a faint pretense in my home beneath the big oaks 
of Careby Hall of celebrating my seventy-seventh anniversary. 
It is not certain however that I will attend. I never enjoy 
my absence more from home than when they get up a little 
sentimental confusion at my expense and call it a celebra- 
tion. 

"A thousand good wishes attend you on your career of 
service and honor." 



656 LETTER FROM DR. ARTHUR JONES 



Like birds flocking to his room with their sweet notes of cheer 
came the letters from his friends everywhere. Dr. Jones of 
Colgate, after telling of a gathering of friends (including 
President Bryan) at his house and his reading to them a letter 
received from Dr. Hatcher thus continues: 

"Said Bryan 'I would be glad to go out and take a good 
thrashing if I could go out and come back and find Dr. Hatcher 
here.' Then it came out that yesterday you passed your 77th 
milestone and in behalf of the assembled company I promised 
to write you, offering you our hearty felicitations and our de- 
voted love. We all confessed to the same thing, — our un- 
bounded admiration for you as a preacher, our profound rever- 
ence for you as a christian and our ardent affection for you as a 
friend. If we had been proposing toasts this would have been 
the sentiment to which we would have drained our glasses, — - 
many years to the incomparable Hatcher; and may we all 
have the joy of seeing him again in the flesh and in Hamilton/ 
(Tremendous enthusiasm) . 

"I wish to recur to that part of your letter of March last 
in which you say you have in mind the writing of a book on the 
'Philosophy of Illustration'. . . How glad I would be to 
use it in my classes in Homiletics." 

He was fond of dictating to his stenographer out in the yard 
at Careby Hall during these Summer days. He was writing 
for the Herald a loving tribute to Dr. James B. Taylor who 
had recently died and he closed it with the words : 

"Beneath these trees I sit this morning and my cherished 
friend is still with me. He is not in Hollywood [Cemetery] — 
his soul has risen and already he is seeing the face of him in 
whom for more than half a century his soul found its highest 
joy. . . Those that loved him. . . have enough of 
good in him to remember to gladden their soul until they go to 
meet him again." 

Under those trees he would sit and not only do his dictating 
but also read his mail, receive his visitors, play games with his 
grandchildren and chat with the family. One of his letters was 
from Rev. F. W. Tomlinson who writes: 



THE DISTRICT ASSOCIATIONS 657 

"John Jasper has helped me speak the truth at scores of 
funeral services. . . . I often read a chapter in it [Along 
the Trail of the Friendly Years] before working on a sermon." 

He attended one of the District Associations and a young 
minister who was his room mate says : 

"Dr. Hatcher did not sleep but a few hours during the night 
and he spent most of the night reading by the lamp light. 
He said he had to read himself to sleep in that way. I thought 
next day he would be languid and weak after such little sleep 
but to my amazement he was one of the most active men among 
us and made several bright speeches and seemed full of life. 
One morning as he lay in bed another minister came in and 
began to talk about a certain pastor who in recent years had 
turned an unfriendly side towards Dr. Hatcher — though that 
was not mentioned in our conversation that morning. Dr. 
Hatcher said somewhat dryly as he lay in bed, 'The trouble 
with is that he tries to be a Higher Critic and can't.' " 

In one of the District Associations was a young minister 
whom he greatly loved, and he wrote to two or three members 
of the Association suggesting that they elect this young preacher 
to the moderatorship of the body at its meeting in August. The 
suggestion was cordially accepted and at the opening of the 
Association his young friend was placed in nomination. The 
nomination startled the young minister; he shrank from the 
honor and declined to accept the position saying that the 
moderatorship required business qualities and therefore a lay- 
man rather than a preacher should be elected to the position. 
Upon hearing of it Dr. Hatcher wrote him : 

"If I had been in reach of you with a cudgel I would have 
given you six strokes across your brow for not allowing them 
to elect you Moderator of the Association. I had taken pains 
to work the thing up. I wanted you in that chair and I 
am as mad as blazes with you that you declined and I wish 
you would tell your wife what I say about it. You've got a 
vicious back step to you and I would almost be willing to cut 
off one of your feet to break it up. 



658 



HELPING THE NEEDY BOYS 



"Besides why should you go over and join the enemy and 
talk about its being a 'business' as if preachers did not have 
sense enough to be business men. Why should you join the evil 
tongued gang who are always ready to say that preachers do 
not know anything about business. Come out from among any 
such ill-starred and misguided cranks and stand up for the 
ministry. 

"But, nevertheless, I love you and Bagby about as much as I 
do the whole senatorial district." 

The following letter to a pastor is a specimen of the many 
efforts that he was making to help needy boys come to the 
Academy : 

"My Dear Bro, — .... Send your boy along; ask 
the Lord to help you to raise the money; I will look after the 
fifty dollars promised and also see that he pays only half tuition 
and even if you cannot keep him here all the time we can make 
an honest effort and if we fail our failure will be to our credit 
and not to our reproach. 

"Many of our boys work in order to make their way through 
school. It is a thoroughly respectable thing here for a boy 
to do and it will be a sort of test as to whether your boy has the 
real stuff in him for him to be willing to make some arrangement 
of this sort in the interest of his education. Let me know how 
the boy feels about it and I will then tell you what terms I can 
make with my neighbor." 



He gathered his grandchildren at Careby for the Summer 
and reveled in their companionship. He wrote to Orie telling 
of the cordial greeting the grandchildren would give him upon 
his return with boxes of nuts and candies "but" said he "they 
have scattered them and the land is bare of all delicacies and 
of course my popularity is sensibly diminished. . . This 
place is a good place to be and all the better when you are 
here." 

"From a human standpoint my success here is all due to 
you" writes Rev. J. E. Bailey of Saluda, S. C. 

"The Academy is on deck" he writes me on September 21st. 
". . . William plays croquet about one half of his time, 



LETTER TO R. S. BARBOUR 659 

behaves well, pays me gastronomic visits six times a day and 
eats everything I can give him. . . ." 

"William wishes to send a message but I refused him space." 

He preached at his old Grace Street Church during all the 
Sundays of October — an experience that brought him many 
rich joys. 

"Your father returned Monday, from Richmond" writes my 
mother, ". . . . He has been a little depressed I think 
from losing his flesh again as result of his cold." 

"I get sick in turning away boys who are crying for an educa- 
tion" he writes "and have not the means to make the start." 

His cares could not destroy his cheery mood and he was ever 
ready for a joke. He heard that his friend Mr. R. S. Barbour's 
large wagon factory had recently been hit by two fires and 
he thus writes him : 

"Here I am without a stenographer and almost without 
everything else except a coughing cold, trying to beat up a letter 
to a friend who has been tried by fire. The ways of Providence 
get criss-cross bad enough with me when I look at myself and 
feel that if I were to die I have'nt got a wagon to haul what is 
left of me out to the Potter's field, while you have wagons to 
burn. I may seem to play a trick of splendor by picking my 
teeth at the Jefferson, but what am I to think of you when you 
get up two fires within a month. 

"But the Lord bless you just the same and give you all the 
wagons you would like to have in this world and golden chariots 
in the world to come." 

"To be near you was for many years one of the ideals of my 
life" writes Dr. W. C. Taylor, "Long before you knew me I 
was being drawn towards you. . . You have passed through 
many trials, — few indeed there are that are possible to patient 
souls with which you are not familiar by a deep personal ex- 
perience. But how graciously you have passed through them 
all and how victoriously you have come through them all 
without even the smell of fire upon your garments. . . I 
want that sort of grace. . . I never heard you utter an 



V 



660 DR. E. W. WINFREY'S TRIBUTE 

unkind word against any person living or dead nor have I 
found the man who could charge you with unkindness. To me 
it is wonderful." 

Dr. E. W. Winfrey in public print writes concerning 
him: 

"He was no mediocre man. I've seen 
Him pass unflinching and erect through flames 
Which might have withered giants' thews. 
\ He bore 

Himself, not arrogantly, but serene 
Against the bold assault or when the dart 
Was hurled by ambushed foe. 

His quick soul knew 
The pain, but flung from him the venom charge 
And closed and healed the cruel wound. 

He was 
A mighty man. If bravely bearing woes 
For others meant, and gently soothing hearts 
By shame or sorrow wrung, — If guiding youth, 
Inspiring faint and struggling riper years, 
Or cheering dim-eyed age with clearer light, — 
If stirring souls to penitence and faith 
And holy zeal, — If toiling much through life — 
On superstructures vast, or on half-seen 
Foundations yet more vast and grand and fair 
Supporting — toiling aye so well we say, — 
A master's hand is here, — If these are marks 
Of greatness, then a mighty man he was." 

Another writes: 

"Dr. Hatcher's power of rebound was amazing. He passed 
as all of us do, through trying experiences. Yet they did not 
crush him. Surely his faith in God counted towards these 
victories." 

(His life had been marked by sore trials and heavy strains. 
A man of his positive convictions and one who fought in so 
many campaigns could not avoid making enemies, and it 
seemed to me that nearly all my life I was hearing of some 



THE MAD BROTHER 661 

who were mad with him, or pursuing hostile tactics towards 
him. It is an interesting study to try to determine how 
a man's enemies are made. He wrote an article for the 
Seminary Magazine on "The Mad Brother" who, he said, was 
often a missionary to us in that he put us on our best behavior 
by watching us closely for flaws. He said of himself "My 
worst enemies were those I had served." Bitterness, however, 
found no lodgment in his heart. 

Not even a pugilistic letter seemed able to disturb his sere- 
nity. A professor in one of the undenominational schools of 
the state wrote him a critical epistle regarding his position 
as to feasts, fairs, etc.,-m churches and he sent the professor 
the following reply: 

"I must thank you for your critical and disapproving letter. 
I love people who do not agree with me. They are likely to 
benefit me more than those who seek to flatter and confirm 
me in my opinion. Evidently you and I do not see some things 
alike, but we do not have cause to fall out on that account. In 
that time when we shall see Him face to face I have a hope that 
we will not only be satisfied with Him but be satisfied with each 
other." 

In November he showed his ability to step into a public 
breach and meet a great occasion upon a few moment's notice. 
It was in Baltimore at a State Mission Banquet which the 
expected orator had been prevented at the last moment from 
attending. Two or three hours before the time he was asked 
if he could come to the rescue. A great State Mission campaign 
was to be launched. He agreed and with his white locks his 
bright eye and eager countenance, as he sat in the seat of 
honor, he presented an interesting picture. 

He seemed to catch the spirit of the gathering and his 
enthusiasm became contagious. The president Mr. Harry 
Tyler, made a stirring introductory address and at its close 
Dr. Hatcher struck up his favorite hymn "We'll work till 
Jesus Comes" and it was caught up by those present and sung 
with thrilling power. I do not remember the words of his 



662 THE GREATER RICHMOND COLLEGE 

address but I know that he set a lofty standard for our for- 
ward movement, filled the audience with high ideals regarding 
it and inspired them with a purpose to accomplish it, and, at 
its close, pastors and laymen from the churches arose, and 
pledged the cooperation of themselves and their churches for 
the campaign. 

In an address in December before the Board of Trustees of 
Richmond College he rendered a memorable service to that 
institution. The college stood at a crisis. Plans had been 
drawn for a vast enlargement of the institution, — at a cost 
as it was thought of $100,000. When the estimates were re- 
ceived it was found that the cost would be between two and 
three hundred thousand dollars. The Trustees stood appalled 
at the thought of such a venture. To launch the College 
upon such an expenditure seemed to some of the members a 
ruinous undertaking and all seemed doubtful or uncertain. 
It was under such conditions in the meeting of the Board that 
he made his speech and those who heard him say that on that 
day he touched the high mark of his eloquence. 

Instead of wagging his head and saying "Beware brethren; 
let us move slowly" he sounded the signal for the large and 
daring enterprise. He began his speech by reminding them 
of their Baptist forefathers in Virginia, — of what they had at- 
tempted and suffered in laying the foundations on which they 
were then standing, and also of what triumphs they had won. 
He next came to the College, its early history, its past achieve- 
ments and its present attainments; he paid tribute to the Baptist 
brotherhood in Virginia and then he pulled aside the curtain 
and unveiled the future that loomed before the institution. 

"It was that speech" said Lieut-Gov. Ellyson "that settled 
the question as to whether the Trustees should attempt the 
larger movement." 

"The Richmond College which will soon rise into being" 
writes Dr. Dodd "will be one of his monuments — not the only 
one — but one of the biggest and best. It will shine with the 
reflected light of his incomparable love for young men." 



THE FIRE OF YOUTH 663 

Let those who have an eye for interesting objects turn their 
gaze upon that scene in the trustee meeting that day. Old 
age always walks with cautious steps and assumes the phil- 
osopher's mien as it puts forth its restraining hand upon the 
shoulders of youth. A man with 77 birthdays to his credit 
has usually settled into a state of conservatism and timidity 
and contentment. But not so with the aged trustee in his 
speech that day. He had not lacked, in his long life of warfare 
and struggle, the experiences that ofttimes make men sour 
and pessimistic. Burdens many had weighted him down; 
strains and sorrows had racked his soul and none could have 
been surprised if his years of stress and conflict had worn and 
depressed his spirit. But he had kept burning the fires of 
youth and the further along the road he moved the brighter 
they seemed to glow. Those who heard his speech that day 
before the Trustees said it was the speech of a young 
man. 

"He seemed" said Dr. Herndon "to have drunk from that 
fountain of eternal youth" and Dr. G. B. Taylor said that he 
was the beau-ideal of the man whose natural force was not 
abated. His little granddaughter asked one day "why do peo- 
ple have grey hair?" 

"Because they get old." 

"Well" she replied "my grandfather has grey hairs but he is 
not old." 

"I shall never allow myself to grow old" writes Dr. Landrum 
"so long as I remember how to the last boyishness beat in Dr. 
Hatcher's blood." 

"No young fellow in the opening years of his ministry" says 
Dr. Pitt "could have been more bouyant, more dashing than 
he was down to the close of his remarkable career." 

The old philosopher, Sam Johnson, is reputed to have said 
that it was worth 500 pounds a year to be able to look upon 
the bright side of things and some have taken these words 
as a description of the optimist. Dr. Hatcher had learned 



664 OPTIMISM 

the art of living on the bright side, — not merely of things 
but also of people and of large and critical situations. Yea 
the great future loomed brightly before him and filled his path 
with light. And yet all such definitions of the optimist seemed 
to him inadequate. In one place, in writing about the op- 
timist he declares, "Primarily the optimist is a man with a 
passion for the best." Several times have these pages told 
of William E. Hatcher's "passion for the best." It burned 
in him as a lad; it followed him through his school and his 
ministry. He had his own conceptions of the optimist, and 
one day, in the public print, he drew the picture of several 
of the falsely called optimists and then adds : 

"But thanks to heaven a thousand times! There are many, 
many real optimists. They are free from self-conceit, full of 
the juice and joy of humanity, animated by a wholesome and 
living faith in God, and walking day by day in the heavenly 
path. They see human frailties and seek by gracious means 
to help those that struggle; their honest eyes see treachery 
sometimes, and they hate it, but that does not shake their 
faith in humanity; they meet sorrows that are grievous and 
losses most mysterious, but they do not lose trust in God; 
they see the good, the ever-growing good of this world, and 
live in full assurance of a life to come, where all is everlastingly 
good." 

"The fountain of perpetual youth in his heart was ever full, 
free and flowing" says Dr. Landrum. "He never lived in a 
pickled past, but faced the east and hailed the dawn of a 
flowery future. Optimist he was, radiant and royal optimist. 
Failure never depressed him." 

Dr. E. W. Winfrey writes: 

1"Whate'er the night, he stood so calm upon 
The mountain-top of optimistic faith — 
So oft with steady hand and brow aglow 
He pointed to the stars affirming near 
Approach of longed-for day." 



: 



OPTIMISM 665 

It was undoubtedly true that his spirit seemed unconquer- 
able. There was a rebound in him, a resiliency of soul that 
outwitted every attack of depression or disaster. 

"I could not think of him" writes Dr. ^ P iias B. Crane of 
Boston "as scowling or moping or flinging up his hands in the 
despair of defeat. I can well believe that on the 'perilous edge 
of battle' he would stand or advance smiling and that if chosen 
to lead the 'forlone hope' he would hearten his men by his 
glorious laughter. His portrait seems to me to confirm these 
impressions." 

He had written in the Herald a few months before this the 
following: 

"Some of my critics wantonly charge me with thinking that 
every revival that I attend is the best that has ever been held. 
I believe that I am a little that way. Indeed all the things with 
which God has much to do seem to me to be continually better.' 7 

In another place he wrote concerning his long pastorate at 
the Grace Street Church: 

"If I had to explain what it was in me that made me ac- 
ceptable to the church for so long a time I would say that it 
must have been my hopefulness. God has enabled me to live 
in the sunlight of the future. Discouragement long disap- 
peared from my vocabulary, and if I had nothing else for my 
people I never failed to give them joy and comfort of hope." 

I quote again Dr. Winfrey's words concerning him: 

"His words of sage 
Advice did so far shape the onward march 
Of our victorious hosts,— his call to large 
And larger Christian emprise rang so loud 
And clear, — we named him, and he shall be named, 
A LEADER OF THE ARMIES OF THE LORD." 

It looked as if he wished to add a new meaning and glory 
to old age. It was as if he would say, 'Ah ye old ones who would 
wear the badges of decrepitude and idleness; ye who would 
make old age a couch upon which ye may recline and wearily 






666 OLD AGE 

await the end, I say let us rather make old age the climax; 
let our last days be so fresh and lustrous that they will put 
the crown upon our life's work." In his earlier years he ac- 
corded high honor to the old. He once wrote : 

"The old are our relics. They link us to the dead genera- 
tions; like the crumbling towers of a ruined city they linger to 
remind us of bygone splendor. They are lone columns from a 
social fabric which, once grand and beautiful, has yielded to 
the waste of years. Precious treasures they are. Let no vandal 
hand pollute them with its touch. It is a sacrilege — an insult 
to the past — a stab at the heart of history — an outrage to our 
memories of our fathers and mothers — to neglect and slight 
the old." 

It was Longfellow who wrote: 

"What then? 
Shall we sit down and idly say 
The night hath come ; it is no longer day? 
The night hath not yet come; we are not quite 
Cut off from labor by the failing light; 
Something remains for us to do or dare, 
Even the oldest trees some fruit may bear. 
For age is opportunity no less 
Than youth itself, though in another dress." 

His respect for old age was so great that instead of speak- 
ing lightly, or glibly about it he sought during his last years 
to dignify and to beautify it by happily ministering to 
others. His letters and conversations showed that he felt 
that he was moving near the edge and might at any moment 
be in the other world. That thought put joy within him and he 
lived now under the light of that heavenly prospect. 

In one of his sermons he exclaimed: "It is noble to become so 
absorbed in the King's business as to forget awhile what the 
future holds for us. But, 0, the future must be full of interest 
to the soul who has felt the powers of the world to come. There 
are burnings within us which drive us mad with expectation. 
We stand upon the shore and wonder what we shall see when 
the ship comes to take us over the sea." 



CHAPTER XLIV 
1912 

LABORS IN FLORIDA. CAMPAIGN FOR THE ORANGEBURG SCHOOL. 
FAREWELL MEETING WITH AH FONG. LABORS IN SOUTH CARO- 
LINA. WORKING WHILE IT IS DAY. HIS PORTRAIT 
UNVEILED. 

The year "1912" opened its gate to him and it looked as if 
during each month he sought to quicken his pace, — so ardently 
did he yearn to be busy up to the final moment. As he crossed 
the threshold of the new year, his mind was alert, his eye bright 
and his spirit eager, and he really bounded forth to this tasks. 
The winter, in his last years, always hit him hard and he 
determined that this year his grapple with low temperature 
should be transferred to a more southern clime and conse- 
quently he accepted invitations for meetings in Florida and 
South Carolina. 

"Brer Hatcher took his departure for the South at the right 
time" writes his wife. "He was not in very good condition 
when he left. His physical state was all right but he had lately 
been through the change of Officers at the Academy bearing 
the responsibility and strain of it all alone. Like many old 
men his anxieties got the upperhand and made him nervous. 
He felt, as I did, that it was better for him to get out of it all 
for a while" 

To his wife he writes on January 9th from Richmond : 

• "Monday C. & O. Station 1 P. M. 

"I start for Florida at 1:30 P. M. today. ... I had 
another fall and got bruised up, but I must keep a going." 

667 






668 FLORIDA 

To many it seemed almost pathetic that with his uncertain 
health, and at his advanced age, he should be putting off in 
mid-winter to Florida, a land of strangers. But go he would 
and go he felt he must. He knew that his end could not be much 
longer delayed and for that reason he felt that he must be more 
active than ever. From Sanford, Florida he writes me on Jan. 
11th regarding his Christmas at Fork Union: 

". . . Christmas brought me many things to make me 
glad, but the utter lack of grandchildren put a sense of loss 
in me which I could not shake off. Nor was I free from the 
wear and tear of local strifes which seem to continue to grow 
rather than to abate. 

"In spite of these things life was quiet and rich in comfort 
for me. I preached in Richmond on Sunday and left for this 
narrow neck of land Monday. . . I see a riot of difficulties 
in the way of success [in the meetings] but. . my heart 
is full of hope. . . I am very busy. . . . — u 

There was one thing that indicated that he feared possible 
collapse on his Southern trip and that was that he took with 
him a younger, Virginia minister, Rev. J. B. Williams, who 
helped him greatly, not only by his companionship, but also 
by his leadership of the music in the meetings. I have had 
troubles on this trip" he writes Rev. R. H. Winfree, "I had a 
fall and, in addition to wounding each of my knees and each 
of my elbows, I put my right thumb out of commission. It 
hurts like Scot and is of little use." He also tells of his losing 
his valise with all his good clothes and adds, "It annoys but 
it does not kill and I am doing fairly well." 

On the 16th he writes me from Sanford: 

"Our meeting promises to do much good, though the wheels 
of its progress are deep in the mire of the world. . . Trade, 
traveling and frolicking give religion a hard road to travel in 
Florida." 

Regarding his absconding valise he writes to Orie: 



fc^ 



I 



HIS LOST VALISE 669 

". . . . I have some news to relate. I put about one- 
half of those cravats in my valise for sporting purposes while 
in the South. The valise seems however to have gotten some 
of the hot stuff of Christmas into its head and unceremoniously 
— in fact without telling me good-bye — dashed off to parts un- 
known without even dropping me one cravat to console me in my 
desolation. I believe it is agreed that I am the most picturesque 
specimen of old age that has hooked Sanford for some time. 
By mistake I put on an old coat in starting from home that 
had not been allowed to go out of the gate for probably a period 
of six years and that's the coat in which I am doing my preach- 
ing and social functions etc. My pants are the pathetic relics 
of a suit which some robber hand despoiled the pants of two 
years ago and the vest belongs altogether to a suit of another 
pattern and figure. 

"Florida is very cold and my partly colored garb is of a sort 
that is thin in one piece, thick in another and. medium yet in 
another. As to the trivial matter of my appearance that is a 
changing thing anyhow and I need not dwell upon it. 

"Will I recover my valise? — hope is said to spring immortal 
in the human breast — it does not seem to be performing that 
stunt in my case but who knows what may happen. 

"Wednesday, "The blizzard has called in its scouting winds 
and the air of Florida is balm itself. I am working very hard. 
I leave here next Sunday and will begin with Warson Dorsett 
at Johnston, S. C." 

Dr. Wildman, the pastor at Sanford, said he asked Dr. 
Hatcher one day what he ought to do w T ith certain members 
who showed no evidences of piety. "Dont exclude them" he 
replied "wait on them," and Dr. Wildman said that the later 
results proved the wisdom of his suggestion. Dr. Wildman 
mentions another incident: 

"I had full proof of Dr. Hatcher's freedom from the money- 
loving spirit. I had written him — when asking him to come 
to Sanford — that owing to financial reverses I feared our 
people could not pay him enough to justify him in coming so 
far for a meeting. He replied, T need money and usually get 
some in the meetings; but I want you to have no concern on 
that point.' 

"The weather was cold when he came. . . . On the last 



T 






670 EXPERIENCES IN FLORIDA 

Sunday the house was packed and the power of the Lord was 
present to save. My plan was to make a statement and to 
receive an offering at the morning hour. He refused to allow 
me to do it. Then my plan was to take the collection at the 
night service, but again he absolutely forbade any mention 
of money because the interest was so profound. No public 
mention was made of money, but before he left on Monday 
the spontaneous offering of the people realized a very satis- 
factory amount. 

"His preaching was with power and great acceptance to all 
who came." He went to Columbia where he wrote that he — 
"stayed two days, 'ate out' in pompous luxury among the 
great, delivered five addresses, was pulled out of bed about 
daybreak to make the train and began a meeting here slated 
to continue at least until Sunday, February 4th and maybe 
longer." 

"Your life has indeed been a benediction to my soul" writes 
Rev. L. E. Peters of West Virginia. 

"I am always glad to hear of your preaching" he writes me, 
"as that is the supreme joy of earth to me. Preach every de- 
cent chance that may come along." . . and then after 
telling of his hopes regarding the meetings and his many lines 
of work he added "But work is life and I am still living." Mr. 
Williams, his traveling companion, in a letter to Mrs. Hatcher, 
after telling of his pleasure in being with him, says, "His ex- 
periences with his old clothes and crippled finger have been the 
occasion of much amusement for us." Regarding his wounded 
finger he said, "It hurts me all night and the Doctor hurts it all 
day." 

"When we would come home from the meetings at night" 
says Mr. Williams" he would be brim full of pleasant humor. 
He said of his stolen valise and his lost clothes, 'I wonder if I will 
not meet some of my suits on the street tomorrow. I am expect- 
ing to meet one fellow with my pants on and another with my 
vest on and who knows but I may meet two of my whole suits 
in town before I leave.' " 

Mr. Williams adds that the lost suit case with its contents 
was valued at $120 but that Dr. Hatcher instead of allowing 



EXPERIENCES IN FLORIDA 671 

his afflicted finger and the lost suit case "to become a means 
of sorrow to him and others he rather used it as a means of 
entertainment for us at Bro. Wildman's. Those were blessed 
days. . . ." He also adds that he and Dr. Hatcher took 
a night train for Johnston, S. C. "I rather insisted" he says 
"on Dr. Hatcher's taking a sleeper but he said, 'I curtail every 
expense possible; for you know there are several boys looking 
to me for help.' I said to him, 'Your preaching thirty years 
ago and your preaching now are very different' he said to me,. 
'Dont you know that the sermons that I used then are gone 
from me.' I told him that the last sermons were plainer and, 
according to my judgment, far superior. His preaching, on my 
first acquaintance with him in the eighties was very largely 
from the old Testament." One of the Florida Baptist pastors, 
upon being introduced to him, said, "I want to shake the hand 
of the preacher who writes the best English of any man in the 
United States." 

It is interesting to note that although he had his physical 
infirmities yet, instead of regarding himself as an aged object 
to be pampered and waited upon, he seemed to be busy dropping 
his kindnesses into other fives. For example- Dr. Wildman 
thus writes several months later of his visit with him at Sanford: 

"There is no joy to me quite as deep as the recollection of 
having him for two weeks. . . last winter in the home. At 
every association which we attended together this year he 
spoke a good word for me; and in the last letter he wrote in the 
Herald he said, 'And Wildman pro-tem of Florida, but of 
Virginia forever.' " 

Fork Union pulled him back for a few days of Academy toil 
and then he hies himself away to South Carolina again, — this 
time without a traveling companion. He went to Saluda to aid 
Rev. J. E. Bailey in meetings and Mr. Bailey writes, "As I 
bade him good bye [after the meetings] he said, 'God bless you; 
you have been so good to me. When I get to Heaven I'll tell 
the Lord about you.' " 



672 AN $80,000 CAMPAIGN 

At this point in his southern trip he accomplished a remark- 
able achievement for a man of his age and physical debilities. 
A school in Orangeburg, S. C, had a huge debt upon it. $65,000 
was needed and he was asked by several pastors in that section 
to lead them in a twelve days campaign to raise that sum and 
save the school. It seemed preposterous to him at first but he 
surrendered to their appeal. "I fear it is a fool's errand on 
which I am going" he writes "but their oft-coming overcame 
L me. . . and for once I am like Paul; I go, but, unlike him, 

I do not know that any "bonds" await me with which to pay 
the debt. ... I am weighted down with Fork Union 
anxieties. My eyes bother me much, — or rather, my eye, for 
really I have but one." One marked weakness he had, and 
that was in the direction of yielding to cries for his help. He 
kept himself so absolutely at the beck and call of the needy 
ones around him that he left all doors to his heart unbarred 
and it was easy for applicants for his service to win his consent. 
V ■ It will be acknowledged however that in such weakness lay 

his best strength. During the last year or two of his life he 
seemed to say to all, "Here I am, Come on; get out of me what 
you can. If there is any good service still left in me, pull it out, 
and he seemed literally to lay himself on the altar of the public 
need. I was struck with it often when I would ask him to write 
for publication. He knew that he could hardly hope to live 
to finish another book and see it published and in the hands of 
the public, and therfore that what work he did on his book of 
Illustrations would probably bear its fruit after he was gone 
and yet he was always ready to dictate material for the book 
when I would ask him. I was eager to secure as much as possible 
from him and while I did not seek to burden him with it yet 
I was impressed with his cheerful willingness to start his brain 
to work no matter how dilapidated or heavily loaded he might 
be. His attitude seemed to be, "March ahead with the type 
writer; drain me of whatever I have that you need. I am happy 
to give it," and he would start right in, with scarcely a moment 
for premeditation and the typewriter's flying ticks would testify 



L^ 



/.' 



AN $80,000 CAMPAIGN 673 

to the rapidity of his dictation. Some times he would suddenly 
say, "Well, I am tired now; I'll take a nap," and it was such 
snatches of sleep that saved him from many a collapse and 
gave him fresh supplies of strength along his busy way. 

But let us return to the Orangeburg School campaign. He 
plunged in to the enterprise of raising the $65,000 by gathering 
the preachers about him and mapping out a schedule of travel 
by which they would make a rapid dash among the churches 
in that section. At the first church visited — "Ebenezer" — 
he put up two of the preachers to make remarks, and then 
he followed and at the close he called out in almost cynical 
tones. "I wonder if there is a man here today who would give 
anything to save this school." 

"Yes, I will" said a man "I will give one hundred dollars." 

"What is your name, brother?" he asked and the corpulent 
farmer said that his name was "Smoke". Dr. Hatcher added 
"Well surely where there is such a big smoke there must be fire 
near by," and so it was; in a few minutes they had raised nearly 
$700. 

Thus they went from church to church, sending their notices 
ahead and charging in on the people, sounding the signal and 
rounding up the bonds and in that happy bouyant party none 
were younger in spirit than the man of 77 upon whom thay had 
so suddenly laid the harness. He sums up the story by saying, 
"Through flood and storm and swamps I made a campaign for 
$65,000 and it resulted in pledges of largely over $80,000. It 
took twelve days." 

Rev. J. R. Fizer, in writing about it, says: 

"This campaign was perhaps the most strenous undertaking 
and the most trying experience that Dr. Hatcher had in his 
last days. The weather was unusually bleak, and the roads 
were next to impassable. Still he murmured not a whit, but 
saw the bright side of it all. There happened in the start an 
episode that led him to brag a bit on having a talent above that 
of any of the brethren, — the gift of missing the right way. 
We (he and I) got lost. He declared that the right road to a 
place was always the other one, a ad not the one he pointed out. 






I 



674 HIS PARTING WITH AH FONG 

"The school was saved, its policy entirely changed, just as he 
advised, and its name also changed — from Orangeburg Col- 
legiate Institute to Orangeburg College. Last session was the 
best in its history, and to Dr. Hatcher, more than to any other 
one man, belongs the honor." 

A touching incident occured at this time. His Chinese boy 
Ah Fong Yeung, whom he had taken into his home and aided in 
his education at the Academy and afterwards at Richmond 
College, was now preparing to go back to China. He had 
been in New York for two or three years and now, before 
turning his back upon America, he desired to see his great 
friend and benefactor, Dr. Hatcher, and bid him farewell. 
And so he came to Virginia and one day, in the end of Feb- 
ruary, when the door bell at Careby Hall rang and Mrs.,Hatcher 
went to the door, she found Ah Fong. After some words of 
greeting he said, "where is Dr. Hatcher?" 

"He is in South Carolina" she answered not realizing what 
a blow her words were giving him. She said her heart went 
out to him as she saw the look of disappointnmet that spread 
over his face. He had come through the rough, wintry weather 
from New York to Fork Union to get his farewell from Dr. 
Hatcher and was met with the news that he was in another 
state. The thought of going back to China without seeing him 
cut him to the heart. Mrs. Hatcher sought to cheer him and to 
brighten his stay at Careby. Word was sent to Dr. Hatcher 
about Ah Fong's visit and in a few days the good news came 
back that Dr. Hatcher would come up from South Carolina 
and would meet him in Richmond. 

"Ah Fong goes to Richmond tomorrow" writes my mother 
on March 1st. "Your father will meet him there Tuesday." 

Dr. Hatcher reached Richmond on Tuesday and it must have 
been a touching picture, — that of Ah Fong and his aged bene- 
factor having what both of them knew too well was their last 
meeting on the earth. Ah Fong thus describes this farewell 
scene: 



HIS PARTING WITH AH FONG 675 

"When I decided to return to China I wrote him a letter 
saying that I will pay a last visit to old Virginia, before my 
departure. He was on a trip in the Carolina States. He can- 
celled 3 engagements in order to come back to Richmond and 
bid me good bye. He came to Richmond on the morning train 
and we spent a few hours at Mr. Edloe Snead's home on Plum 
Street Richmond. At noon we went to the Business Men's 
Club for our farewell dinner. A great many men spoke to him 
about me. He told them that I was about to leave for home 
and that he came to bid me good bye. All of them said that 
he had done a great work for me. His face was all smiles and 
he said, 'I have only done my duty.' " 

Dr. R. H. Pitt, who saw them, wrote in the Herald: 

"Dr. Hatcher came from a distant point in the South all the 
way to Richmond to tell the youth good-bye. To see them 
together at the hour of parting was touching. We could not 
suppress the conviction that they would not meet again on 

earth." 

"When we spoke our last word," continues Ah Fong, "it 
was on the corner of 9th and Main Street. 'Well Ah Fong, 
I'll have to tell you good bye here. I have to leave here soon. 
I only rushed here this morning in order to have a last look 
at you. I dont think I'll see you again in this world, but we'll 
meet up there. Remember whatever you do, I always feel a 
deep interest in you. Write me when you can. Give my love to 
your father.' "A hearty grip of our hands and we parted." 

A few days later he writes about Ah Fong in the Herald: 

"I wish the world knew this young Chinese gentleman, 
this modest christian, this scholarly young man. It would 
make them rich to know him. He lived in my house for seven 
years and had it for a home six years more. I never knew him 
to utter an untruth, nor to speak ill of anybody, nor to be 
coarse or indiscreet on any occasion, nor to thrust himself into 
any unseemly prominence. He has appeared before many 
American audiences and has always been heard with interest 
and admiration. He had hoped to finish his law course at 
Harvard before returning to China but so pressing is the plea of 
his friends that he return home at once and so boundless is his 
enthusiasm over the transformation of his country to a republic 



*l 









676 AH FONG 

that he could not resist the impulse to go home, and before 
this paragraph sees the light of day, he will be on the Pacific 
bound for Canton, the home of his youth which he left when 
a boy of fifteen. He goes an ardent christian young man, not 
a minister of the gospel, but full of the loftiest zeal for the speedy 
christianization of his country." 

"He was criticized by some" says his wife "for giving such 
aid to a foreign boy, but his heart knew no limits." 

Dr. Hatcher showed a tenderness for Ah Fong that was 
unique. It had in it a gentle respect and deference that seemed 
to give this boy from across the sea a sacred place in his heart. 
How often in the Summers at Careby Hall, as I have seen 
Ah Fong with his happy face and blinking eyes sitting with 
the grandchildren around Dr. Hatcher, or walking with him 
across the grounds, my thoughts would travel out into the 
future to the time when Dr. Hatcher would be in his grave 
and Ah Fong would be over in China doing his great work and 
would be often thinking of that country home in far away 
America and the kind man who did so much for him. 

The scenes already are swiftly changing; in a few weeks Ah 
Fong is in his Oriental home. Will Dr. Hatcher's hopes re- 
garding this fine young man be realized. What became of Ah 
Fong? 

Let us, for a moment, run forward about a year to April 
29th, 1913, when Ah Fong writes a letter to Mrs. Hatcher from 
China: 

"My Dear Mrs. Hatcher — The government has again offered 
me a post as Director of Foreign Affairs at King Chow, in the 
Island of Hainam. This is the third time which the govern- 
ment has asked me to become an official. I again tried to 
refuse the post, as I have a very good position here in busi- 
ness, but the government would not hear of it, and urged me 
again and again to take it up. I found that the government 
wants me so badly and that the present crisis in China needs 
men of education to fill all the important posts, I have decided 
to give up my present position and enter into the government 
service. 



AH FONG 677 

"I will have five men to work under me, besides my private 
secretary and personal attendants; of course I do not care for 
any of them, as I have been used to do all things for myself 
and other things besides, but the dignity of an official here 
requires all these good-for-nothing things. Again, the coun- 
try is not yet quite settled down to normal, and we, the of- 
ficials, must have these men to protect us from any unlooked 
for dangers. Just think! only about a year ago I was working 
in a restaurant to make money in order to get a sheepskin, 
and here I am an official of the great Chinese Republic. Of all 
the credit and honor I have none, becuase they all belong to 
Dr. Hatcher, to you, Miss Elizabeth, to all your family, and all 
the American friends and all my teachers, who had helped me 
to become what I am. Had it not been for you and my hosts 
of friends, I would not have been appointed by the govern- 
ment three times consecutively within a period of only five 
months. So far as I know, there has never been any returned 
student who has been asked to serve the government so urg- 
ently. I don't know the reason why. The only reason I can 
give is that they were quite surprised to find that I cared so 
little for a government position, and my action baffled them." 

From Hong Kong, China, came a letter from Ah Fong's 
father : 

"My Dear Mrs. Hatcher, — . . . For a great number 
of years Ah Fong has received so much kindness and invaluable 
teachings from Dr. Hatcher and you all I feel that your family 
have been the maker of Ah Fong. This is indeed such a kindness 
that I cannot express my appreciation to you with mere words. 
Now Ah Fong has returned to China just starting to do some- 
thing for- his country, his fellow men and for the spreading of 
Christianity and to show that, whatever Dr. Hatcher had done 
for him is not a waste and that Ah Fong's work here in the 
future may be a comfort to him." 

At this writing Ah Fong is a professor in the Baptist Theo- 
logical Seminary and also at the head of a Baptist Academy in 
China. 

This memoir plainly requires of its readers that they be good 
travelers for here we have them peeping into one of the lands 
of the Orient and now we must hurry them back to South 
Carolina to which state Dr. Hatcher returned after his parting 






678 WESTMINSTER 

with Ah Fong. He plunges into a revival campaign at West- 
minister, S. C. where he writes his wife on March 13th: 

"I am often touching the bottom of my strength these days, 
but I must not stop until the Lord lays me down. The highest 
joy of my heart is that I can work in the way my life has been 
cast. . . . 

"Fork Union wears on me. It gives me the hardest strains 
, and not a copper of income and no special opening for preaching 

\^ and my life is in that. My health is better when I preach and 

move around. So we must pull along as best it seems to us. 
Give my love to the DeMotts. 

"Hastily and as ever". 

Regarding his meetings at Westminster the pastor, Rev. 
F. G. Lavender, writes: 

"Dr. Hatcher's preaching drew the children. They came in 
crowds to every service and gathered around him at the close. 
Uflj ...» It was especially interesting to see the little fellows 

drinking in his sermons. 

"His sympathy for people in trouble was marvelous. During 
his stay in our home he had letters asking his advice on all 
manner of questions. Churches wanted pastors, a college 
wanted a president, a mother wanted his advice about whether 
or not her daughter ought to marry a certain young man and 
one of the Academy boys wanted his advice about buying 
a pair of overshoes. In answering these this great man seemed 
to take as much interest in the one as in the other. 

"Dr. Hatcher's deep piety and consecration impressed me. 
I could mention several things but one will suffice. One night 
after I had put him to bed and put out his light, something else 
in the room demanded my attention for a moment. He, think- 
ing I had gone out, began to pray aloud just as I was closing 
his room door. I was now on the outside and could not catch 
all the words, but enough was heard to reveal the fact that 
Dr. Hatcher was in close touch with God. He thanked God 
for keeping him physically able to work and for giving him 
work to do. 

"One night after he had talked until past midnight about 
some of his experiences Mrs. Lavender offered him some cake. 
As she did so he turned to me and said, 'Isn't it a pity Eve 
was ever invented?' But he took the cake." 



EDLOE SNEAD 679 

Ah Fong's reference to Mr. Edloe Snead's home in Richmond 
in which he and Dr. Hatcher spent several hours calls to mind 
the many visits which he paid in that home during the last 
year or two of his life. Its three fine boys constituted one of the 
pleasant charms of the home to him. Mr. Snead writes as 
follows : 

"He would often stop to spend the night with us, and would 
come in fatigued, carrying in his right hand his small valise. 
He never stopped to ring the bell; he walked in. in a quiet 
manner, and suddenly, when he would find everything still, 
he would call out, ' anybody live here?' As soon as we heard 
that we knew who it was and always gave him a hearty welcome 

"None could excel him in -telling of their travels. When 
he arrived in our home and seemed so tired; we asked him if he 
did not ride in a sleeper. 'No', was his reply, then 'why'? was 
our question. 'Because,' he said, 'I wanted to use the money for 
a better purpose', and that was to help a poor boy at school. 
In order to help boys all that he could, he would even sit up 
all night in a train. 

"Cousin Neal, often told him that he could afford to give 
liberally to the Academy, because every time he left Careby 
Hall it meant lots of money for him. He was very much tickled 
at the remark and ventured to say that he had just taken a 

trip to a church in where he was invited to speak. 

It did not pay him one copper, not even his railroad fare, and 
there were many other places where he had done this without 
receiving anything. He knew how to get out of money's way. 

"Last summer, he and I went to a church in Chesterfield. 
We left Richmond about nine o'clock and reached the church 
about ten. After spending a very enjoyable day out there, we 
returned, and I remarked to him coming back that we were 
making fairly good time. 'No we are not,' he said 'turn him 
loose, and let him go along, I cannot bear for other people 
to pass me.' 

"How he adored boys! When he came to our home, if 
he did not see the children, he would inquire at once for them, 
and if we said they were studying, a look of gratification would 
be seen on his face. Once he wrote a postal to little Edloe 
for him to meet him at the station. Somehow Edloe could not 
go, and I went. When he saw me a look or surprise appeared 
on his face, and he seemed disappointed when he saw me, 
because he was expecting Edloe, Jr." 



680 ADDRESS AT THE ORPHANAGE 

He made a speech at the meeting of the Trustees of the 
Orphanage at Salem which made a marked impression. 

"It was unique" says Dr. G. B. Taylor. "As a general 
thing he did not take his illustrations from history, or general 
biography. This day he did. He told of his visit to the world's 
greatest cathedral and of the tradition concerning the archi- 
tect, — he had an ambition to build the greatest structure in the 
world. . . The application of the story was an exhorta- 
tion against selfishness, and in this connection he said: 'As 
I look back over my life — and if I live to July 25th I will be 
78 years old — I cannot remember a single act of mine that has 
been free from selfishness.' or some such words as that He 
was probably not any more selfish than all of us, but certainly 
in these candid words he was most frank and outspoken." 

As an indication of his appreciation of kindness and of his 
manner of dealing with children may be mentioned an incident 
in connection with his little granddaughter Anna. 

When the letter had come from grandfather telling of the 
loss of his valise with his clothes Anna was much concerned, 
and she came to her mother saying, "Mother I have saved up 
six dollars and I want to send it to grandfather." Her mother 
said, "Wait until father comes and he will write out a check; 
that can be sent better than the money." But Anna wanted 
to send something right away and so, in a few minutes, she 
came back to her mother with three cents wrapped up in a 
piece of brown paper and said, "I can send this to grandfather 
right away and I can send the six dollars when father comes," 
and the mother, more to please the child than anything else, — 
for she hardly thought that the roughly arranged little package, 
which Anna had tied up herself, would ever find its way to 
grandfather — addressed the package and mailed it with a letter 
from Anna and later on the check was sent for her other gift. 

The little brown parcel, however, made the trip safely, was 
handed to grandfather and the three pennies came into his 
hands, and in a few days there came back to Anna the following 
letter : 



GRANDFATHER'S APPRECIATION 681 

"My Darling Little Anna, — It was way down South in 
Dixie that I got your letter and, as I was just leaving for home 
when it came, I had to wait until I got home before I answered 
it. 

"God bless my dear granddaughter who felt so sorry for 
me, when I lost my clothes, that she gave me all she had to get 
me something to wear. That was just the prettiest thing that 
anybody ever did for me and I expect to think of it when I get 
to heaven. I have the three cents which you sent me and I 
will buy me something with that money and I will see you about 
the other money when I come. Nobody will ever know how 
good I felt when I received your letter. Nobody ever was that 
good to me before and I hope to live long enough to see you 
get some nice and big things. God gives to those who give to 
him. I long to see you. May you have many to love you in 
this world and crowns of gold in the world to come. 

"Your Grateful 

"Grandfather." 

He accompanied this letter with the following on March 22nd 
regarding the six dollars: 

"My Dear E. B., — I have read Anna's matchless letter. It 
is a new type of child's religion. I accepted the money in my 
letter to her and you must have her send it and then in a way 
of which she does not know I must gradually accumulate 
something to her account in the bank. 

"This seems the best way to do that I can think of. 

"I am at home, tired in sixteen points out of eighteen and, — 
in the language of the mountaineer — T am getting tireder and 
tireder every day'. When I get my work through on my Ded- 
ication and revival meetings in Petersburg I will compose my 
bones and rest up some." 

His daughter Edith was planning to go abroad during the 
Summer to pursue a special course in music. Already she had 
taken an extensive course in New York and London and had 
taken lessons under the great Lechkitisky of Austria and her 
heart was set upon a second visit to the world's famous artist. 
She had written her father of her plans and he wrote in reply 
on March 22nd: 



682 PETERSBURG 

". . . Of course I long to have you at Careby whenever 
it suits you. You add light and cheer to me in many ways. 

". . . But I am not expecting, or even willing, for you to 
break from the line of your destiny to console an old thing like 
me; indeed that is not what I need. My life is in going and 
working and I have had a festival of it this winter. I am hoping 
to spend Easter at Careby with you. 

"I am wild with multitudinous things today.'' 

In giving Edith one of his " Jasper" books he wrote on the 
fly leaf, "Strike no chord on earth to which heaven will not 
respond". 

"It is a joy to see your father so free from weakness' his 
wife writes. "He walks over to mail a letter in the morning 
and will go again in the afternoon to see a base-ball game, 
standing around talking and will receive any number of cadets 
who come to air their grievances or tell their wants, and then 
dictate to one of the professors who will write for him until 
eleven o'clock." 

Petersburg is the next scene of his labors and there he dedi- 
cates a church and holds revival meetings at the West End 
Church. In writing to his daughter Orie from Petersburg re- 
garding his irregularity in writing to his children he says: 

"My eyesight has become so feeble that it is with difficulty 
that I can do any writing of my own and my peripatetic habits 
make it impossible for me to have any steady arrangements 
for type writing. . . It may interest you to know that I have 
fattened up about fifteen pounds during the winter." 

Such fattening, however, at his age was a symptom that 
needed to be watched. He bends himself to his tasks, and each 
day he works as if eagerly grateful for the new day that was 
his. From Petersburg he returns to Fork Union where he finds 
his usual accumulations of duties. 

"I am home for a week" he writes "but fatigued to the point 
of a collapsious feeling." Nearly all the family were with him 
for an Easter reunion. 



UNVEILING THE PORTRAIT 683 

"We are on the porch most of the time" writes his wife, 
"occasionally going into the parlor with a visitor to an open 
fire or gathering at night in Brer Hatcher's room where he loves 
to keep up his stove fires and distribute peanuts, apples, 
oranges and candy that he brings home in his big baskets." 

On April 27th he writes me the following card : 

"Fork Union beat First Team of Richmond College yesterday 
8 to 5. Tell William." 

The boys had a bon-fire and procession that night and 
marched over to Careby Hall and lined up in front of the house 
about 10 P. M. He came out and made them a speech. "He 
invited the team over here last night" writes his wife "and gave 
them a little party — having some of the girls of the town to 
meet them." His days at Fork Union were always crowded and 
it was just such days that he most delighted in. 

Mrs. J. D. Carneal of Richmond had decided to present to 
the Academy an oil painting of Dr. Hatcher and the artist 
visited Fork Union that he might give him some sittings. He 
felt that he needed to hear his voice as well as to study his 
face and so he said to him one day "Dr. Hatcher, I want to 
hear your voice ." 

"I don't know why you want to hear the voice of a worn out 
old shack like me" he replied. "If it was a young girl whose 
voice you wanted to hear then I could see some reason in it." 

The portrait was presented to the Academy during the 
Commencement exercises by President Boatwright of Richmond 
College. As Dr. Boatwright unveiled the portrait bringing 
the familiar face into public view the audience of students, 
faculty and Fluvanna people broke into tumultuous applause 
and when he arose to respond, the applause continued long 
and loud and when quiet was restored he began, — "That is 
sweeter to me than the strains of richest music." 

In presenting the picture Dr. Boatwright had said that in 
future years the boys of the Academy would look upon his 
face and be inspired to noble things. Over the platform of the 



684 BUSY IN JUNE 

Academy auditorium the picture now hangs at every Com- 
mencement and at the opening exercises of the Academy. 

It seems that in the exercises some one had spoken of a 
monument to Dr". Hatcher and in his response he said pointing 
to the Academy — "This is what I hope will be my monu- 
ment." 

In that scorching month of June he made another journey 
to South Carolina for a dedication service in Columbia where 
he preached three times on Sunday. He preached two Sun- 
days at the Second Church in Richmond, and in addition he 
said: "I have to look after the catalogue, make arrangement 
about advertising and do as much stenographic work as I 
can." 

Rev. R. T. Marsh approached him in behalf of a young man 
who was needing an education, and his reply was : 

"I have not a dollar for him. I do not know how or where 
I will get it: but you send him on and I'll find it somehow. He 
is red-headed and has fire in him to try and I will see that he 
has a chance." 

"June is very full for me" he wrote me on the 17th "Dedi- 
cations are now brisk. I am hard at work on Catalogue of the 
Academy — have pretty much all of it to do." 

Dr. Frost wrote him that his dearly loved friend Judge 
Haralson had just passed away. In his reply to Dr. Frost, he 
closed his letter as follows: "It is enough to bring on shouting 
to think that Haralson has gone up to see the Father. It 
makes heaven about twice as real, but makes the earth look 
scant and pinched and lonesome. But never mind; he still 
belongs to us; we have stored him away and he is now waiting 
to bring us into the king with honor when we get there." 

"I also have been out of kelter" he writes Rev. R. H. Win- 
free on July 16th "and I suppose I would be sick now in certain 
spots if I had time to inquire about it." 



CHAPTER XLV 
1912 

BUSY HERE AND THERE. ADDRESS AT JUDGE WITT'S FUNERAL. 

THE GRANDCHILDREN. A CROWDED WEEK. HAPPY 

DAYS AT CAREBY. THE END. 

From far away Texas had come an invitation to him from 
Rev. J. V. Dickinson to attend the 25th anniversary of his 
marriage. In reply he writes: 

". . . Texas is too far away. I cannot make the trip 
but friendship is a mighty traveler. It can stride its way over 
land and sea and not even the boundless plains of Texas can 
defy friendship's loving invasions. 

"My friendship has to start on the day of the event and will 
land at the altar when your vows are renewed but its creden- 
tials cannot fly so fast and while this letter will arrive after 
time it will testify that you are remembered at Careby Hall 
on the bridal day." 

He received a letter from his best and life-long friend, Dr. 
J. R. Bagby, in which he said: 

"I must see you oftener so as to cheer me up. We must not 
drift apart now. I was preaching on friendship a little while 
ago and while talking about it I thought of the tender strong 
tie that had bound us so closely together for so many years. 
How sweet and precious the link has been and still is. It must 
not grow less so, and shall not, so far as I am concerned." 

He left Fork Union for- King and Queen county about 
August 1st and stopped in Richmond where he met his young 
friend Rev. R. H. Winfree and together they went up into the 

685 



686 BRUINGTON 

Business Men's Club room on the eight floor for luncheon. 
After taking their seat near the window which gave a com- 
manding view of Manchester and the country beyond he said: 
"Get up Robert and let me have your place I want to take a 
look at my beloved Chesterfield. You are going there this 
evening and I cant go". While they were eating a somewhat 
youthful gentleman sauntered over and with a swinging voice 
said: "How is my venerable friend Dr. Hatcher?" The word 
"venerable" seemed to touch him in a vital spot and he replied 
in an almost accusing tone: 

"Venerable" you say. "Will you allow me to remark that I 
have to take the train at half past three, get off at Lester Manor, 
take the stage and go to Walkerton and then six miles to Mr. 
Fleets; spend the night and next morning preach at Bruington 
and that evening drive to St. Stephens and at night to Dan 
Fleets and next morning go to Walkerton and then by stage 
to Lester Manor and there take train to Richmond; and now 
if you have any young fellow that can do any better than that 
trot him out." 

"I went with him to the train to help him with his satchel" 
says Mr. Winfree. "As we sat talking he said to me, 'Bob, 
I am always in trouble about you.' 

"I said, 'Doctor, what are you in trouble about me for?' 

"He replied, 'Last year you were looking so pale and weak 
I thought you would die and leave me; now you are looking so 
well, I am grieved because I fear I shall die and leave you.' " 

In so many of his conversations in these months his words 
dropped intimation that he thought he would soon receive 
his final call. 

He went on his circuitous and arduous journey that after- 
noon preaching on the next day at old Bruington Church, 
about which he thus writes: 

". . . Just forty-seven years ago, while yet young and raw 
I assisted Dr. Richard Hugh Bagby in a revival meeting at 
Bruington; and I wished before my eyes close to the scenes of 



AT RICHMOND PASTOR'S CONFERENCE 687 

earth to look upon the historic old church once more. I reached 
there after dark on Saturday, and left before light on Monday." 

He hurried back to Richmond where he had to preach the 
funeral of his long time friend Judge S. B. Witt, — a gentleman 
whom he held in high and affectionate esteem. Only a few days 
ago a gentleman said to me, — when I told him that I was writ- 
ing the present biography, "You ought by all means to put into 
it the wonderful sermon that he preached at the funeral of 
Judge Witt." The Judge had refrained from making any public 
religious profession until a year or so before his death, and Dr. 
Hatcher selected the case of Moses whom it took God forty 
years to bring into his active service as the basis for his remarks 
about Judge Witt. The Grace Street Auditorium was packed 
with a congregation that included many of Richmond's most 
distinguished Jurists and professional men and the sermon 
impressed profoundly the audience by its unique and eloquent 
treatment of the subject. It was shortly before this that he 
went one Monday morning into the Ministers' Conference of 
Richmond. 

"It was report day" says Dr. G. W. McDaniel. "He lis- 
tened to the brethren as, one after another, they told in short 
and simple manner of the doings of the Lord in their churches. 
When all the pastors had finished, the venerable leader arose. 
His face was flushed with enthusiasm, his eye sparkled with 
delight, his voice trembled with emotion. He spoke thus: 
'My brethren, I am on the heights this morning. For over 
fifty years I have known this conference and for most of my 
ministerial life I have been a member. In all that time I have 
never heard such thrilling reports. We never had a more 
efficient ministry than I see around me to-day. I am glad I am 
alive and I can die happy, seeing that our Baptist cause is 
prospering in this city, which I love above all others.' 

His words fell like a benediction upon our hearts; they 
strengthened our hands for present tasks and nerved our arms 
for larger undertakings. Coming from one so competent to 
judge and so careful in speech, they were a positive inspiration." 

In August the following paragraph appeared in the Herald 



688 AT CAREBY HALL 

and was copied in other state papers going the rounds from one 
to the other. 

"Dr. William E. Hatcher, who passed the seventy-eighth 
mile post last week, has gained twenty-five pounds in weight 
in recent months, and finds rest in work. Attending two or 
three district associations each week, dedicating churches, 
holding protracted meetings and guiding the destiny of Fork 
Union Military Academy, are a few of the means used in 
consuming the energy of his perpetual youth." 

His wife said that he had kept saying during July "I 
am so lonesome. I want Eldridge to come on. I want to 
talk with him." He was away on his travels when we arrived 
at Careby for our Summer visit but he touched the home base 
in a few days. His health and spirit seemed to be at high water 
mark. He would stay a few days, then start out on his travels 
and in a few days would return. What a welcome he would 
receive from the grandchildren, — and in fact from all the 
Carebyites. During this season he ate all his meals either in 
his study or out under the trees, — not once in the dining room — 
and everybody at Careby Hall were his waiters. At this time 
he was eager to plunge into his mail on his return for his anx- 
iety about the number of students for next session was always 
great at this season. His eye scanned his mail rapidly 
and seemed to pick out its salient messages quickly. In the 
meantime the grandmother, the children and grandchildren 
would be piled around the room. 

"Tell me some news" he would call out and we would have 
th report the latest items of village fife. 

As usual he always came back loaded with his baskets and 
bundles of candy, cakes and fruit. "Oh, my. Are'nt they 
good?" "Is'nt grandfather nice?" "Grandfather you must 
come back again the next time you go away." Such were the 
exclamations that greeted his return. 

"Bed time" would be called out in a short while, and then 
would come the appeal, 



AT THREE ASSOCIATIONS 689 

"Oh, mother; just let us sit up a little longer — just a little 
longer for grandfather has been away, you know." 

But that night others would come in, — Stephens, the Aca- 
demy treasurer, or Capt. Snead or yet others and thus the 
talk would run on towards midnight. 

Next morning his stenographer would appear on the scene 
immediately after breakfast and together they would attack 
the large mail pile. After several hours of dictation he would 
call out : 

"William! Quoits!" or "Virginia! Dominoes!" "I'm coming" 
was the reply and in a few minutes the perplexities and burdens 
that his mail had flung upon his mind were gradually rolled 
off in the enthusiasm of the game. When it was all over he was 
ready to dictate his Sunday School lessons or an article for the 
papers, or to have a conference with a Trustee, a Summer pupil, 
or a professor or some other visitor, or to take a brief nap on his 
couch or a frolic with the grandchildren. Every game would 
usually wind up by grandfather tripping off into his room and 
soon emerging upon the porch with a bag or basket of fruits or 
sweets. 

During the week beginning August 11th — with seventy- 
eight years upon him and amid the heat and dust of travel — he 
visited three Associations in widely separated parts of the 
state. He spent Tuesday at the Concord Association at 
Chatham where he was given a loving welcome, and where 
he took active part in the meeting. "He was radiant and 
charming in conversation, sparkling with humor as of old" 
writes one of the visitors. His speech on education was said 
to be full of vigorous thought and "was delivered with intense 
earnestness and in the rare and interesting style peculiar to 
Dr. Hatcher." Next morning at five o'clock he was "up and 
gone" on his journey to the Piedmont Association where upon 
his arrival he was requested by the Association to preach 
before the body. His subject was "Zaccheus, or the evidences 
of a converted heart." "He seemed very feeble when he com- 
menced" says one who heard him "but, as he talked, he gather- 



690 AT THE POTOMAC ASSOCIATION 

ed inspiration, and I never heard him preach with greater 
force or more telling effect." He left that afternoon and on 
the next morning he was in a far-away section of the state at 
the Potomac Association and there too he was requested 
upon his arrival to preach before the body. His text on this 
occasion was "Leadership in the kingdom of God." A young 
minister who heard him remarked to a friend, "It would take 
me 200 years to be able to preach a sermon like that." 

That afternoon there came a lull in a collection which the 
Association had ordered to be taken for the purchase of a 
church building. 

"Dr. Hatcher, help us take this collection" said some one. 
He arose and replied: "Brethren if I am to do this work it 
must be done quickly as I have only a short time to remain." 
The automobile was already at the door to bear him to the 
depot. He sounded the appeal and called for subscriptions 
and one by one they began to come in. After a while the 
subscriptions stopped coming and he prodded his audience 
in a genial way. $112 of the total $500 was still needed and a 
brother called out, "I will give as much as John Kinchelow." 
Dr. Hatcher accepted the challenge and turned his gaze in 
search of Mr. Kinchelow. The old man, now grown some- 
what feeble, was out in the yard but upon learning that he 
was wanted in the house quickly appeared at the side door, 
while the audience watched with eager expectancy for the 
next move. Dr. Hatcher explained to Mr. Kinchelow the 
situation and he replied, "I will give one-half of the amount 
needed." This completed the sum and sent a happy ripple 
over the audience. Dr. Hatcher then made a tender address 
to the Association and closed by turning to his friend, Mr. 
Kinchelow and saying: 

"John, the beloved, this is not the first time you have helped 
me through a difficult place in a collection. Our work will 
soon be done and I have an impression that neither of us will 
ever meet at another Association." 



BUSY DAYS AT CAREBY 691 

At this Potomac Association he spoke words to a young 
man, Mr. G. H. Payne, that led him to enter the ministry. 
He said to several persons at the Association that he had 
an oppressive premonition that his end was not far away. 

"Dont let us go to bed" he would say to his friends, "let 
us sit up all night." 

From the Potomac Association he hurried to Culpeper that 
he might drive into the country to talk with a boy about 
coming to the Academy. 

"He was going to take the lad practically at his own 
charges," says Dr. E. W. Winfrey who carried him to the 
boy's home, "agreeing to almost, if not quite, 'foot the entire 
bill.' How sanely and sagely he talked that morning. . . . 
more than once mentioning the fact that he might not be 
with us much longer, — and yet, as always, full of ideas and 
plans and enterprises." 

He reached Careby on Friday night about eight o'clock, 
very tired. After finishing his supper in his room and reciting 
the events of his trip to some of the family who were gathered 
around him and to Captain Charles Snead who had come over 
to meet him and who was one of the Trustees he said: "Well 
Charles, I have come to the end of my row and you and the 
others will have to take up the work now." He spoke as one 
exhausted after making a supreme struggle. 

But next morning he was up with a new light in his eye and 
with an alert step. He had arranged to spend the following 
week at Careby. 

The days that followed were packed with toil which was 
interspersed with games and jollifications with the grand- 
children. Ofttimes, as the children and grandchildren would 
be scattered over the lawn — some in hammocks, some in chairs 
and others seated on the grass — grandfather would appear at 
the front door with a box, or bag, in his hand and, running his 
eye over the yard in search of the young ones, he would start 
down the steps and out on the grounds, going from one group 
to another with his "treat", until he had made the entire 



692 ANXIETY AS TO THE ACADEMY 

round. Sometimes he would repeat the circuit before going 
in and this would be usually repeated one or more times during 
the day and during each day. 

To Rev. Andrew Broaddus he writes: 

"Fork Union Va., August 19, 1912. 
"My Dear Andrew, — I was really homesick for the Hermon 
Association — that is, home-sick for you. I was tangled up 
in several directions and could not come to your kingdom 
this time. But I love you just the same and will never weary 
of thinking of you. All the older generation, except Bagby, 
and Charles Byland, seem to have fled from the stage and 
they are practically trembling their way off and I seem to 
be lingering superfluous. I have to depend upon you and 
Julian and Lake and Winfree for even the semblance of con- 
temporaries, but you are not contemporaries and this is all 
the better for me. I can feed upon your remaining strength 
and be the richer for it. I long to see you at Fork Union. 

"Hastily, but very sincerely, 
"W. E. Hatcher." 

"P. S. Tell Gay she has not sent me the two boys as I told 
her and ask Kirk what he is doing about it." 

On Wednesday he wrote to his beloved R. H. Winfree: 

"Fork Union, Va., August 21, 1912. 
"My ever dear Robert, — My soul hungers for you, my 
thoughts go after you constantly and I long for a good easy 
time with you. I suppose that your meeting is going on at 
Mt. Hermon this week and I keep thinking about you. . . . 
I have been working very hard this Summer. The outlook for 
the session is fair but I am not sure it will be as good as it was 
last year. 

"Very hastily t 

"Wm. E. Hatcher." 

"Eldridge, what is going to become of the Academy when 
I am gone?" he asked me one day that week in anxious tones. 
On another day he said, — in a manner betokening the burden 
that was on him, — "Tell me what to do with the Academy." 



BUSY AT CAREBY 693 

One day he said, "Eldridge, why don't you buy the Academy?" 
I told him that the new man whom he had secured for head- 
master might come and like the school and might buy it himself 
and thus insure its permanency. His constant solicitude as 
to the future of the school was so apparent to us all that we 
were ever seeking to cheer him. He himself knew that its 
burdens were too heavy for his weakening shoulders and that 
it was threatening his life and yet the life of the Academy 
seemed to him more important than his own. One night he 
said to his wife, in connection with the uncertainty as to the 
Academy's future: "Well, even though it should die, it has 
at least given me the opportunity of helping many a poor boy 
get an education." 

If some one could only have told him at that time that in 
about two years after his death the Virginia Baptists through 
their Education Commission would inaugurate a campaign to 
raise 150,000 with which to equip the Fork Union Academy 
and that at its head would be a young man, Mr. C. E. Crosland, 
a Cecil Rhodes graduate of the Oxford University, highly 
gifted and fully sympathetic with the ideals of the founder 
and apparently fitted and destined to build up the Academy into 
large and splendid proportions, — but ah, this he did not know. 

Each day had its variety of tasks and incidents. He seemed 
determined that all his many guests should be kept happy, 
that his stenographer should be kept busy and that no idle 
hours should hang on his hands. 

The Chicago Standard in its issue of that week said: "Dr. 
W. E. Hatcher of the South recently celebrated his 78th 
birthday and is still one of the most active and efficient workers 
among his brethren. . . . Years do not count with some 
men who know how to keep young." One day he and his 
daughter-in-law were seated on the lawn, not far from each 
other, and yet apparently unconscious of the other's presence, 
when he was heard to say, as if communing with himself, "I 
was not born for popularity but I was born for friendship." 
One afternoon he started over to the Academy grounds pre- 



694 HIS WISH GRATIFIED 

pared to stop a base ball game unless the players first complied 
with regulations which he, as Superintendent of grounds, had 
made regarding the use of the Campus; and those who saw 
him start off down the hill that afternoon noticed that he 
still had in him his old fighting spirit, — to be called into action 
if the occasion demanded, it, Very soon however the shouts 
on the base ball grounds announced that all difficulties had 
vanished and the game was under way, and no one of the 
spectators was more enthusiastically interested in the contest 
than the old gentleman of seventy-eight. On Thursday night 
the trustees delighted him by their hearty response to his 
appeal that they would cooperate in providing a Water Plant 
for the Academy. "We had a great meeting tonight" he said 
with radiant face as he came out in the yard after the trustees 
had dispersed and it was reported by the trustees that he 
offered one of the most impassioned prayers for the Academy 
that night that they had ever heard from him. 

Friday found him with a busy schedule, — walking over 
to the Bashaw's and the Wright's for conferences about the 
Academy and certain improvements for the village and as he 
climbed the Careby hill on his return and approached us on 
the lawn he moved with an unusually alert step and surprised 
us as he said "Well I believe the Lord is going to let me live 
two or three years longer" Never during his later years had 
we heard from him such a remark. In speaking of his plans 
he would always interject the proviso "that is, if the Lord 
lets me live." He bore himself that day as if he had received 
a fresh and sudden supply of physical and mental vigor. 

On that night the building and grounds at Careby Hall were 
thronged with the Fork Union people. The neighbors, young 
and old, with their children were there and their jovial chats 
and merry laughter filled the air. About 9 :30 — after indulging 
in varied social festivities — they moved to the front and 
listened to an address from Dr. Hatcher as he stood on his 
front porch with his wife at his side. He spoke to them on the 
importance of making certain improvements in the village and 



"GRACE STREET'S" BEAUTIFUL DEED 695 

closed his address by pointing the young people to high ideals. 
Late that night, after bidding me good night in his room, saying 
"God bless you" he went into conference with his Academy 
treasurer. 

Next morning early he was at his open window singing and 
whistling and at about 7:30 — he fell. Yes; that vigorous body 
that had stood and toiled and traveled and borne burdens 
for seventy-eight years had at last fallen to the earth. His 
wife, in the next room, heard him say in subdued tones "Every- 
body better get up; everybody better get up." Upon hurrying 
to his side she found him lying with his body partly upon the 
couch and partly on the floor. "I have been here long enough; 
I must be going" I heard him say somewhat huskily as I 
approached him. It was a stroke of paralysis that rendered 
helpless his left side. Later on, not seeing his wife, he said; 
"Where is Jennie?" Despite all efforts of physicians and 
loved ones and friends the other side soon felt the fatal touch 
and shortly before ten o'clock his body became quiet and his 
spirit had taken its flight for the other world. 

His words concerning Dr. J. B. Jeter, seem appropriate in 
his own case: 

"He died splendidly — in all his ripened, glorious prime. He 
did not crumble into decay, nor shrivel into imbecility. Dis- 
ease did not waste and age did not shatter him; but, like the 
imperial leader of Israel, he came to Pisgah with eye undimmed 
and strength unabated. I count his death pre-eminently happy. 
When his hour came to go his loving father put his finger upon 
the enginery of his heart — that heart which had been beating, 
beating, beating for nearly eighty years and beating always 
highest for his father's honor. He felt the solemn touch and 
the vast machinery of his life trembled, groaned, creaked and 
shivered; but only for a moment and then standing suddenly 
still, his glad spirit was out and gone, upward and away in its 
celestial flight. It was a translation in its suddenness and an 
ascension in its triumph and glory." 

While the family were preparing for the burial at Fork 
Union a delegation of deacons from his old Grace Street 



696 HIS ASCENSION 

Church in Richmond hurried to Careby asking that his body 
should be buried in Richmond in Hollywood Cemetery in a 
lot provided by the church. They declared that it was the 
sentiment of his former members and friends in Richmond 
that Dr. Hatcher belonged to Virginia and his grave ought 
to be in the Capital city of the state. The family yielded 
to their request being profoundly touched by this loving 
expression from his old charge. Two services were held, one 
in Fork Union in the large Academy hall on Tuesday and at 
Grace Street Church in Richmond on Wednesday, the principal 
address on each occasion being delivered by Dr. W. W. 
Landrum, who had long ago promised Dr. Hatcher that if he 
were living he would come and speak the last words over the 
dust of his cherished friend and who now came from Georgia that 
he might render the sad service. In the most beautiful section 
of Hollywood and in a lot overlooking the James his body was 
laid to rest. The constant stream of telegrams and letters from 
different parts of the earth, the concourse of honored ministers 
and laymen, from Virginia and from other states, who took pub- 
lic or silent part in the final exercises, the loving, lofty tributes 
that appeared in the papers north and south, the memorial ser- 
vices held in different parts of the country, the tearful scene at 
Spurgeon's Tabernacle in London on the day after his death, all 
combined to show the grief that had smitten the public heart 
and the place that Doctor Hatcher held in his state and in 
the world. 

"When he left the world, — Ah, but he has not left it. I 
do not say, for I do not know, that his spirit yet remains with 
us. Perhaps it is so. But I do know that the light of his life 
will not go out. The track through space along which he as- 
cended to his eternal home will always be luminous. I have 
fancied, if indeed it is a fancy, that when the gate of pearl 
was opened for him to enter, truant beams of the heavenly 
glory broke out and are now at large on the earth." 



